Nervosa
by owlloveyou
Summary: I had no idea she was partners with the Reikai Tantei. Now I assumed all our previous interactions were to watch over me, as if the Reikai found out I had taken refuge in this body.
1. Obsessions

**You never told me what it was that made you strong and what it was that made you weak.**

**—**

_Beep._

You don't need to eat that.

_Beep._

Why are you buying that?

_Beep._

You're already fat.

_Beep._

What, are you feeding a family of ten or is this all for you?

"Your total's on the screen, ma'am," I turned my body towards the bags, sliding the packaged ground beef across the scanner—what seemed to be the only healthy option on this woman's grocery list.

She handed me the money warily, unnerved at the sight of my hair. I quickly completed the transaction so I could continue bagging what I assumed was her nasty dinner for the night.

"Why did you dye your hair that color?" The woman finally spat out her question that she'd been dying to ask since she approached the other side of the conveyor belt. "Your parents let you?"

I blatantly stared at her pudgy stomach as I replied, handing her change, "Because I wanted to."

She glowered at me as she opened her palm beneath mine, and I dropped the coins into her hand.

I could have said, "Why did you let yourself become so goddamn fat? Your kids let you? Oh, they probably died of starvation from you eating all the food."

But I needed this job.

My mother and father had low-income jobs and we were doing fine before, but with my acceptance into Meiou High and my counseling appointments, money had become particularly sticky. So I had to help pay for the extra bills coming in. The grocery store wasn't exactly the place I wanted to work at since being around food wasn't helping me at all, despite the hopes of my parents and counselor.

The grocery store didn't sit well with me, I still loathed food. It made me hate myself; the feeling of being empty was much more rewarding than indulging in garbage, only to end up weighing hundreds of pounds and looking like a cow. Being empty was rewarding, the growling of my stomach was a sign of victory, and food only pushed up the numbers on the scale.

My counselor thought surrounding me with food would help me improve (what an idiot) since I'd be able to battle my hatred "head on."

Let me reiterate: what a fucking idiot.

The thoughts still stuck with me… but I was recovering, and doing better. I was, I was, I was.

I had to; I didn't like my parents paying for counseling appointments.

I ate breakfast _and_ lunch today, to be honest. Dinner, though, I hadn't had the time yet. But I think two meals were enough for now, even if they were unrealistically portioned and my counselor wouldn't see it as improvement… I found it improvement. I was still battling with self-loathing from eating, but I ate.

701 calories... 701 disgusting calories.

That's improvement.

The woman stepped aside with her groceries and the next customer stepped up. I avoided eye contact as I began ringing up the next person's load.

"Oh, my," The woman gasped, her palm flew up to her face, covering her mouth. "Aiko!"

My eyes drifted up to my next customer, finding Minamino Shiori and her son, my strange, red-headed classmate, next to her. I guess I couldn't call his hair strange anymore, considering my new color.

She smiled quickly, covering up her surprise, "When did you dye your hair?"

I actually let Natsume pay for it… I mean, she offered and all.

"This morning," I replied, continuing to push her groceries along the scanner, the electronic sounding turned rhythmic against our conversation.

Shiori went grocery shopping every Thursday night, arriving in the store at promptly six o'clock. Any other time she came in was to pick up a special ingredient for dinner that she didn't have on hand. I didn't always receive many hours to work, but I was always given Tuesday and Thursday nights, and I always saw Shiori. She'd talk to me while I rang her up, conversing about school and what I was interested in and what universities I wanted to attend. She'd often bring up her son when he didn't come with her, talking to me about the boy as if we were friends.

You know, the usual motherly conversations that adults and young adults talk about to become better acquainted to allow room and trust for other conversations. And after a few months of conversing, she'd become the one of the few I didn't silently chastise while ringing up.

"It looks lovely," She smiled, digging in her purse as the total continued to rack up. "It's almost… white."

"Yeah…" My attempt at bleaching it last night ruined my already frail hair. "The hair stylist did something with it. I was originally going for platinum blonde."

Shiori was the first one to compliment my hair today, and school had ended hours ago, it was wonderfully reassuring. Especially since I had royally fucked up my hair when I bleached it. Not many had acknowledged the new color, and if they did, it was mere surprise and nothing reassuring.

"Well, I think it's a nice change," Her compliment forced my smile to grow as I began bagging her groceries. She leaned slightly, eyeing my hair, "I especially like how it looks a bit silver in the right lighting."

It was like a game of tetris and understanding weight. After putting everything heavy and non-breakable on the bottom, and separating bags for items by temperature, you then maneuvered and fit other items in to gently fill the bag. But the bag couldn't protrude or bulge in an awkward way; it had to be near perfect, easy for the customer to carry.

"By the way," I turned to meet the Minamino boy. "I was absent in class, did I miss anything special?"

Shiori's gaze turned from the total on the screen towards me, concerned.

"I just wasn't feeling good this morning," I reassured her.

I was actually at the salon. The night before I had bleached my hair an awkward blonde—god, was that a horrible outcome—and Natsume's invitation earlier that day spiked my idea to ditch and stay at the salon this morning.

"Lecture notes and the lab assignments will be due tomorrow," He was always polite, though curt.

We rarely talked, despite two classes together. The only interaction we had were moments like this, when I was in the middle of bagging Shiori's groceries, and the occasional greetings in the hallways and classrooms. An acknowledgement, a hello, and we passed by each other and continued with our lives.

The only reason he acknowledged me was because I knew Shiori, and I assumed she brought me up at dinner time enough for him to feel obligated to say hello.

"Thanks," I set the large paper bags up on the counter and took Shiori's payment.

"How are you feeling now?" I had to be careful in answering her; she seemed like the type to call the authorities or try to tell my parents.

Though I trusted Shiori, I had learned to keep my mouth shut around adults.

"I'm fine."

From my peripheral vision, I could see an amused smile faintly emerge from the Minamino boy. He'd heard my honest answers to everyone else in class; he was probably wondering how many masks I had**—**if I had only these two, or more.

Shiori knew absolutely nothing and I intended to keep it that way.

"Will I see you next week?" Shiori breathed carefully as she lifted up one of the bags, and her boy picked up the other two.

She was still 'under the weather,' just as she had been last week, and the week before that…

"Same shift as always?" She heaved the bag against her chest as she coughed into her free hand.

It was raspy, and I waited patiently to see if phlegm would fly on her balled fist. Perhaps it was just a cold.

"Of course," I waved them away with such a forced smile my cheeks hurt within seconds, and began listening to the same rhythmic tune over and over.

The monotonous beeping, the chinging from the register, the amount of garbage that passed by my eyes, the shuffling from the paper bag… Nine o'clock couldn't come any faster.

* * *

I wasn't sure if repetition was a good thing. Wake up, school, work, homework, sleep, repeat. I talked to the same people every day, did the same thing every day.

I exhaled, watching smoke pour into the air around me, and I was only a tad bit guilty about going back on my vow of quitting. It was just one puff anyways.

I stopped momentarily to drop the cigarette butt on the ground and drag it along the cement. I dug in my satchel for the overly scented lotion to mask the smell of tobacco and other vague chemicals to help me air out before arriving home. I read somewhere I was smoking methanol, sounded pretty bad ass until I realized that I was practically smoking antifreeze.

Still, even if that was true, I didn't care.

I rubbed the lotion over my neck and hands, wiping residue on my coat its cuffs as I continued my walk home. Obviously, I would still reek, but airing out a few blocks before home and letting the lotion settle had worked before and it worked still. My parents just assumed the strange smell was the lotion itself, and I wasn't going to correct them.

Ah, this was routine.

The only slight changes in my routine days were the minuscule details that didn't matter much anymore: new interactions, new subjects to talk about, and new sections of textbooks to read… They blended in far too easily, the weeks still passed by with ease.

It was boring, which was why I had actually taken up the upperclassmen's invitation yesterday to fuck around town. I was able to convince them to take me to the salon.

Anything new, even just sitting in a salon for almost five hours fixing my hair was something better. Maybe that was why I went through with bleaching my hair yesterday and having it fixed at the salon. It was a change, a break from repetition. But I returned to my mundane schedule after lunch, when we returned to campus.

The crisp spring night was fine, though, it almost made up for the boring shift. Even this large jacket I had to wear was repetition; I was sensitive to the cold… I even wore thigh high socks clumped on my calves because it was the only way to relieve myself from the cold.

My thighs were the thickest part of my body; I didn't think they needed any covering since their fat could suffice as a natural warmer.

Boring, boring, boring.

What else hadn't I done in routine today…?

Oh, crap! I forgot to tell Kitajima I wasn't showing up to the book store today.

She had an interest in science fiction comics and the sort, while I tended to navigate towards shojo romances. But regardless of our interests we enjoyed talking about our favorite comics.

I grimaced as I rounded the corner into my apartment complex, hoping she didn't think I was blowing her off. They scheduled me an hour earlier at the store and I wasn't going to turn down the offer for more hours.

Coming up to the small apartment complex I lived in, I shoved the thought of my friend aside and promised to find her tomorrow and apologize. But as my attention focused ahead of me, I found something that had me thinking I should ask for more counseling appointments.

For a few seconds, I figured it was a boy practicing a magic trick as he floated a foot off the ground, but I soon realized he was a ghost. Translucent, his frame stared inside the apartment, hands in his strange, green school uniform pockets, watching over someone.

Mother said there was a funeral here the other day; it must have been held for him.

Chocolate brown eyes turned my way, meeting my gaze, and I cursed under my breath as I tried walking past him. I should have learned not to stare at ghosts after Grandpa's funeral.

"Oi!" The green uniformed boy floated after me. "You can see me?!"

I was surprised to see one floating around town, taking me off guard. I usually saw them in the hospital or in their home where they died, looking out the windows. I didn't expect to see one floating freely.

I stayed quiet as I rounded another corner, continuing my way to the small apartment only three doors down from his.

"_Oi!_" I opened my apartment door and slammed it behind me, a sign for him to go away.

"I'm home," I called out as I dug my finger into the back of my shoes, taking them off.

My mother rounded the corner with a bright smile, but her jaw dropped when she saw my hair. Her sharp gasp carried into the living room, prompting my father to come see the matter.

"Aiko!" His eyes darted about my face, then to my hair, where they stayed glued. " When did you find time to do this?"

"This morning before school."

Both my parents went to sleep early in the evenings when I didn't work, and left to work early in the morning every day regardless. This left me able to slip out of the house this morning without my hair being noticed.

My eyes drifted to my mother's hands, watching them move around furiously.

Her signing was violent as she waved her hands around, fingers moving just as lividly as I translated mentally, "_What is wrong with you? Your hair was fine before!"_

My mother was born deaf, and was becoming an exceptional lip reader.

"Because I like it," I signed only to emphasize, to let her know I was addressing her as well as my father.

She exchanged a wary glance with my father, knowing they both messed up. They knew to be careful with my self-esteem.

The boring, light brown hair I received from my mother wasn't fine before. And despite the lack of compliments I received on my new color, I liked it. Their lack of consoling, backtracking words allowed me to walk past them into the hallway. I could only give them time to make up some try-hard lie to boost my confidence.

Entering the room I shared with my little brother, who was sound asleep, I stared down at the five-year old, watching a small snot bubble grow and shrink as he breathed peacefully.

"_Oi!_"

I whipped around in fright, jumping off the ground slightly to meet chocolate eyes once more.

"I _know_ you see me!"

"Tch," I crossed my arms, unable to deny the fact, and watched as he slipped into my room (literally) through the window. I hissed, keeping my voice low, "What do you want?"

I didn't need my father to hear me and think I had schizophrenia or some other form of delusions.

"You're the only one that can see me," He crossed his arms and legs, floating comfortably in my room.

"So?"

"My body's being cremated tomorrow."

"That's cool?" I shrugged, not understanding what he wanted.

"And I'm trying to come back to life!" He raised his voice as if that notion wasn't completely obvious to me.

I ignored his outburst and side glanced to my little brother, wondering if he could hear, but he remained undisturbed.

"Okay?" I couldn't take him seriously.

"Look, I've tried to communicate with people through their dreams but I don't think it's worked," He flew up closer to me. "Would you do me a favor?"

Who the hell went to sleep at ten? I glanced to the clock above my desk, finding it to be much later than ten. Had it really taken that long to get home? I must have taken my sweet time airing out without realizing it. But that thought dispersed quickly as I remembered the boy floating in my room.

"Maybe," I became wary, wondering if I should make an appointment with my counselor.

Maybe I was hallucinating or something. I'd never actually talked to any of the ghosts I'd seen, I avoided them.

"Can you just tell my mom not to cremate my ass? My heart in my body's still beating and I'm coming back soon."

I snorted, continuing to whisper, "Yeah, I'll just walk up to a random person and go 'So, look, your dead son's ghost is harassing me to tell you not to cremate him. Cool, thanks for believing me, bye.'"

"Yeah," The simple look on his face was almost priceless, but I was still annoyed with the situation.

"Okay, look, you're not coming back. You're dead," I couldn't understand _why_ he thought he could come back. "I'm not going to entertain this."

"Gah!" He ruffled his hair in annoyance as he rolled around in the air, but his hair stayed intact with only a few strands coming out of place.

He either had industrial gel or used too much. Maybe it was a ghost thing. When I died, I hoped my hair stayed fabulous.

He reached in his pocket, pulling out a small golden egg.

Like him, the egg glowed, polished, "Look, this thing's going to hatch someday and when it does I'll be able to jump back into my body."

"Yeah, I'm going to make an appointment with my counselor…" I turned to leave my room, but his body floated in front of me again.

Normally, I'd be knee-deep in his asshole about this situation. (Why should I believe you? Who said you can come back to life? Why do you, of all people, get to come back to life? What's that egg for? What will hatch from it? What does its hatching have to do with your resurrection? What's in the afterlife? Is there a heaven and hell? Etc. etc. etc.)

But I was more preoccupied with the fact I was talking to a ghost, something that was _not_ a daily routine. I avoided ghosts ever since Grandpa's funeral, and this conversation was strange. Stranger a conversation than what I'd expect to talk to a ghost about.

"Okay, forget the egg! All you have to do is say something and walk off," He reassured me.

I sighed, wondering how embarrassing it would become if I actually followed through with this.

But I entertained his feelings, "You really expect whoever I'm telling to just _believe_ me?"

"I'll help you out if they don't believe you."

"You can't even seem to help yourself, that's why you're here asking _me_ for help," My arms crossed defensively, and a staring match ensued.

To my surprise, he backed down, a calm expression on his face once more, "She's drunk so if things get bad she probably won't remember."

"Then she won't remember if she does believe me."

His calm demeanor was deteriorating with each passing second, into one of anxiety, worrying about the cremation and how to convince me to help. But what was swaying me was how he honestly thought he'd be able to come back, his determination and fear.

He'd been let on to a secret you're only told in the afterlife.

"You sure she's drunk?"

He nodded, and I pushed all rational out of my mind as I walked through him, hope shining in his transparent eyes. I silently left my room to not wake up Minoru or draw attention from my parents. But it would be harder to actually slip past them.

The smell of spices and meat lingered from the kitchen into the hallway, they were reheating dinner for me. As I peeked around the corner, finding my parents signing to each other about my supposedly drastic hair color, my father caught sight of me.

"Aiko," My father's voice carried to me from where he stood in the kitchen. "Where are you going?"

"Out for some air," I leaned out from the hallway, approaching the living room.

After maybe a minute of eyeing my facial structure, he sighed, "Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."

"I'll be back," I promised, though I honestly wasn't in the mood to entertain food.

"You're eating with us?" He was only asking for reassurance as I walked across the living room, where my parents slept.

Their futons spread out in front of the TV, ready for them to knock out on after we finished the tidying the kitchen.

"Yeah," I noticed his eyes following my feet, becoming relieved to see I was only wearing socks.

I closed the front door and the boy floated next to me, finding me from my room.

I knew my parents were watching me out of curiosity as I walked away, so I waited until I rounded the corner to look up to him, "What's your name, hair gel?"

"Urameshi, Yusuke."

"Hojo, Aiko," I approached the apartment door where I'd first seen him.

I lived here almost all my life and I'd never crossed paths with this boy despite him living literally three doors down. Maybe I had seen him once or twice, maybe I had seen him every day, but I couldn't place a finger on the occasion.

"Maybe we should try Keiko's house again, instead," He grumbled, musing to himself.

"You sure she's drunk?"

I was beginning to regret agreeing to this; rationale was making its way back into my head. I would be put in the loony bin if this person didn't believe me.

"Yeah," He grumbled some more, pondering, and I worked up the courage to ring the doorbell before I realized how stupid this was.

"And she's pretty pissed now," He held up three fingers as he looked down at me, his body bobbed slightly as he floated. "Gonna be like that for a while. At least three days."

I turned my view up towards him, thoroughly livid, and was ready to high-tail it out of here. Dealing with an _angry_ drunk who'd just lost someone could put me in the hospital from assault. Every bit of rationale entered my head as I turned to leave, and I realized this was stupid to begin with.

But the door opened before I could step away off the porch, revealing a scared, wide-eyed woman, who reeked of beer as she stared down at me.

"Who're you?" She looked down at me, nervous, as if she'd seen a ghost before she'd opened the door.

"I… uh," I froze, wondering why I even agreed to this.

Oh my god, she was going to think I was insensitive and crazy and rude and horrible and oh, my god. Why did I even agree to this?

"Atsuko!" A young girl's voice broke my rising anxiety and I sighed in relief as a brunette girl with pig tails barged between us.

"Keiko?" The woman's attention turned to the girl instantly, and I had never been more thankful for someone interrupting me.

"Atsuko, listen! Yusuke, he's—"

"Yusuke!" Keiko paused and stared at Atusko, curious what the older woman had found out. "I was going to give him one last punch to the face, and when I opened the casket his cheeks were still red. And his heart—it's beating!"

I stepped off the porch, jaw agape, as Keiko's face flushed with tears.

Atsuko collapsed into Keiko's arms and I inched away quietly as their sobs echoed in the open complex, rejoicing in him still being alive. I looked around for Urameshi, completely in shock, only to find him floating above the complex, relieved his earlier communication worked.

The two girls continued to cry, and I tried making a break for it before they noticed me, but Atsuko looked up at me, remembering my presence. The two brunette's shone from the dim light in the doorway, the moonlight hit the features the yellow light couldn't reach. Tear stained faces that gave them almost the same glow as Urameshi.

I stared down at the two girls, because surely they'd believe me. They were already reinforced with whatever Urameshi had done earlier.

The boy was actually going to come back to life.

I fidgeted, rubbing my upper arms as I tried to speak, suddenly aware of how cold the night air was, despite it only being spring.

But all I could muster was the sentence I'd originally came to say, "He said not to cremate his ass."


	2. Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others

**—Minamino.**

This morning, my mother seemed spaced, her mind wasn't all there. I thought it may be depression with the way she stared at the coffee in her cup, but there was nothing in particular I could pinpoint as the cause of her crestfallen actions. The day of my father's death wasn't for a few more months, though maybe that was what plagued her still.

It was possibly buried deep in the corner of her mind, rearing its head at random times throughout the day, dragging her health down.

But her coughing reassured me it wasn't depression, and I held my tongue about her strange sickness since I knew she would brush it off easily by pushing me out the door to school.

"Have a nice day at school, dear," She walked past me, gently running her hand over my head.

"Have a nice day at work, mother," I watched as she dug through her purse for her keys from my seat at the kitchen table.

"Oh, before I forget to tell you," She began scrambling for some trinket that wasn't in her purse. "Kazuya is coming over for dinner."

Hatanaka had been dating my mother for a while, he was a fairly nice man. I had no complaints about him as his affection for my mother was sincere, and he understood the relationship my mother had with my father in the past. He never held it against her when she felt depressed about his passing. After marrying and having a child with someone, being together for so long, it'd be a crime to hold someone's life against them.

This was probably one of the main reasons why I never held distaste for Hatanaka. He was understanding of my mother and supported her when she was upset because he understood that despite my mother's sadness, she still had growing feelings for him.

He never shamed her or made her feel like she had to hide her sadness when the date of my father's passing came around, he supported her and understood.

For her, I didn't feel there would be a nicer man than him because of this.

"Do you think Aiko is working tonight?" Finding whatever she was looking for, she shoved it in the bottom of her purse before turning towards me. "I was going to make a stop at the grocery store to pick up some meat to make donburi tonight."

"I'm not sure, the two of us don't talk much."

"Oh well," She sighed before heading for the door, but she paused, looking back towards me as she coughed into her fist.

A fit ensued, and she leaned against the wall as she began to seemingly choke on her coughs. I made my way towards her, gently grabbing hold of her shoulders to guide her to the table to sit down, but she pulled away and composed herself. Her fit ceased, and she took a deep breath.

After clearing her throat, she instantly changed the subject as if I hadn't witnessed what had just happened, "Do you have cram school tonight?"

I sighed, dejected, "You should stay home today, call in sick."

"Shuichi, you know I can't do that. Now, do you have cram school tonight?"

Again, digressed.

But I let it go, quickly plastering on a reassuring smile, "No, I'll be sure to come home after school to help prepare dinner."

Her smile grew as she said goodbye and left, and I left a while after her, locking the door behind me before walking to school.

I never would have expected to care so much about her, I constantly tried reassuring myself I only felt guilty from the scars on her arms. But each passing day, with her sickness noticeably getting worse, I was proven wrong. I'd grown an attachment for my mother. The reality of that irked me, as I hadn't intended to stay in this body or with her.

Originally, it was because of the scars that I stayed around, but it became more over time. I began to appreciate her kindness, look forward to it, and even want to return it. After thousands of years, I had found someone I didn't want to harm in any way.

Upon entering homeroom, I noticed Hojo and her peculiar white hair. It made her skin tone seem much darker than it was, drawing out the details in her face. Her thick, coral headband held her hair out of her face as she shoved her nose in a textbook, presumably from the class she had ditched the day before. A large bottle of water stood on her desk and another at her feet, and as I approached her, I noticed they were 1.5 liters and she was determined to drink both of them.

I acknowledged her since my mother brought her up often enough at dinner, especially every Thursday night, asking me questions about her that I simply couldn't answer.

"Hojo," I greeted her with a nod, and thick, mascara eyelashes lifted up.

"Minamino," She mumbled, nodding a bit as her eyes fell back to the book.

At least her brown eyes didn't look entirely displaced among her new hair color.

The amount of make-up she wore was fantastical at times, but her skills with make-up and her sense of fashion weren't what gained her acknowledgement from the popular upperclassmen.

Taciturn until addressed, she somehow knew everyone's business at Meiou. Though this observation was personal since I only saw her twice a day—thrice at times when I accompanied my mother on her grocery run. It could be because of her often quiet nature that she was able to snoop around in other's business. People ended up trusting her, despite the fact that whenever she opened her mouth nothing but the truth would flow out.

The only time I'd seen her lie was to adults, as if she'd learned some lesson about telling the truth around them.

Strangely enough, I knew this just from observing her, she was an open book. An open book to anyone that didn't have legal authority over her, which was best for my mother. I'd rather Hojo not stress my mother out with her depressing answers and life, as my mother hasn't been feeling well lately.

Bouts of exhaustion and fever, coughs that seemed to rip her throat, but she played everything off as if she was just tired. But my previous mentions of her symptoms went unnoticed, and when I was able to make her listen, they were digressed.

My mother was a busybody, always working to keep busy, food on the table, expenses paid. Her constant working was deteriorating her health, but her incessant reassurance was ingrained in me, and at times, I often believed her when she said she was fine.

Maybe I merely wanted to believe she was fine, just as she did.

"Aiko!" A third year female's voice dragged me from my worries, and I watched as two girl's followed the first, darting straight for Hojo.

The upperclassmen girls found amusement in her brutal honesty, which—aside from her nosiness—was probably what had given her access to their exclusive circle.

"Hm," Hojo didn't bother looking up to the girls as they approached her.

"How are you today?" The girl with dyed blonde hair was sincere, though it was hard to tell with this clique.

"Super suicidal," Hojo flipped the page and high-lighted some text as the group of girls laughed.

The answer Hojo would have given my mother yesterday if she'd not suspected her to contact some form of authority.

A sad reality was Hojo's serious demeanor, she wasn't lying, and it wasn't meant to be played off as the girls were taking it. But in the same strange sense of her openness about her troubles, she didn't expect or want sympathy or pity. It wasn't a cry for attention; it was an announcement, possibly a warning.

I turned my attention to my own schoolwork, using anything other than this useless chatter to help keep my thoughts from my mother. But a chorus of laughter erupted from the upperclassmen, loud enough to distract me again.

"Oh, Aiko, you're hilarious," The tallest of the three nudged Hojo playfully. "Let's go shopping after second."

"Can't," She replied, and turned her body towards me. She'd always looked bored at work, but I'd never seen her as careless, "Minamino, what chapters were the lab assignments on?"

"Eleven through fifteen," My eyes drifted up to the girls, watching three pairs of brown eyes glance around to each other in a scheme to get Hojo out of the classroom.

"Oh, fuck me," She sighed and turned around, finishing her work.

"Well, after school, the three of us are going out drinking," The tallest girl nudged Hojo for her attention once more. "I know you have Friday's off."

"Sure," She continued to scribble down half-assed answers. "I'll see you at the front gate after sixth hour."

I waited until they left the room, unable to keep my tongue in my mouth.

"You're aware of the only reason they're entertaining you?"

She paused her movement; straight white hair stood out drastically against the cerise blazer that was our uniform.

"And what's that?" I assumed this was her true face: emotionless, bored.

"They find your depressing attitude a comedy act."

"Of course," She shrugged and turned back to her book. "So do I."

As our conversation died, the classroom door slid open, revealing our homeroom teacher who was a few minutes too early.

"Minamino? You've a call in the office for you."

He didn't seem concerned, meaning the caller was discrete.

I knew what the call was about, I just hadn't expected it so soon. I had been shrugging it off, trying to live in ignorance and denial as my mother had about her sickness.

Hojo's eyes burned into my back as I left the classroom, and I followed my homeroom teacher into the office to pick up the receiver.

"Shuichi-kun? Akihara, from your mother's office," I waited patiently for him to continue, knowing greetings were unnecessary. "Your mother almost fainted at work, and she's insisting she's fine so I don't take her to the hospital. I can't stay to watch her, so I'm hoping you'll come from school."

"Of course," I wasn't surprised that she'd push herself out of the hospital. She'll cater anyone else there but she can't find time to get checked in herself. "I'll be there soon."

We exchange brief small talk and hung up, and I chided myself for not speaking up to my mother about her downplaying what she'd called "feeling a bit under the weather." I knew this day was coming. Maybe now she'd feel inclined to at least make an appointment with the family doctor since I knew there was no possible way I could convince her to admit herself to the hospital.

"I'm just a bit tired, don't worry, dear," She would answer.

I opened the door to the hallway, ready to retrieve my belongings and head home, only to find Hojo standing in front of me.

She lifted my satchel in front of her, between her fingers, as if she was holding a dirty pair of underwear. A more accurate depiction was the way she'd hand someone their change.

"I'll bring all of your school work by tomorrow," For having eavesdropped, she seemed unfazed at the situation. "And I'll check up on Shiori while I'm there."

I watched as she retreated into our homeroom class as my grip tightened on my satchel, more preoccupied with my mother than Hojo's nosiness.

* * *

**—Aiko.**

When Natsume had said "the three of [them] are going out drinking," she lied.

The only accuracy in that sentence was "drinking."

It wasn't just the four of us; it was a full blown party. It wasn't going out; we were in her suburban home. Her brother came home from University for the weekend, bringing some of his college friend's (read: idiots) and inviting all the upperclassmen that Natsume deemed socially appropriate.

The living room smelled of skunk and cigarettes.

I threw my legs over the chair, dangling them over the arm as I shoved a plastic cup in my face to down the sharp liquid.

"We've just got this place started and Satoko is already pulling Hachiro into the guest room," Natsume laughed, red plastic cup shaking with her laughter.

"Aiko can get the dirty deets out of her later," Fukui's plastic cup in her hand was slipping slightly as she pointed at me, while her free hand shoved a lock of black hair behind her ear. "Can't you, Aiko?"

"Uh-huh," I eyed the hallway mindlessly, nosy, trying to see who was walking in what rooms with who.

It was a bit early for hot, drunk sex but there's high school and college for you. Party? Do the dirty.

"I wonder how many people will have had some form of sex in your house after tonight, Akane," Hayashi blew her fringe out of her face as she sat down on the ground, and I drowned out the girl's pointless chatter.

Natsume, Akane was the leader of this pack. Fukui, Hitomi was her right hand girl, and Hayashi, Ami played the well-endowed air-head that accompanied them. I found it amusing how she dyed her hair blonde, as if to fit some American stereotype of blondes.

"Your friend doesn't look like she'd be the type to handle her alcohol," Fukui whispered in my ear as she passed by, insinuating Kitajima be one of the people dragged into a guest room.

I'd invited Kitajima along as a way to say sorry for bailing on her yesterday. She sat down on the couch next to Natsume, red cup in her hand, black hair tucked into a ponytail. I didn't know if she could handle alcohol but I wasn't about to let Fukui talk without biting back.

"She'll handle it better than you will tonight, Fukui," I shrugged, watching the girl cross the small circle of furniture we'd created.

For some reason, though Natsume and her henchwomen were up the ass about looking good constantly, the five of us sat around in our uniforms. I assumed Natsume wanted to show off her status in high school while she picked up college freshmen (as if it was an accomplishment to pick up college freshmen).

Nastume's cackle over the loud pop music that blared in the living room drew attention to us, and brought me back from my spacing out. She leaned across the couch she lay on and extended her hand towards me, offering a cigarette. I had been trying to quit for god knows how long, and I went without it all morning and after lunch, and I've been so cranky. But…

I leaned over and took one, and slapped a boys arm that walked by from behind the chair I sat on, "Light me, toothpick."

Despite my rude nickname for the thin, lanky boy I didn't know, he obliged and lit my cancer stick, and I leaned back on the chair.

"You don't share your cigarettes with me," Fukui's huff was almost scripted, a forced line, as Natsume offered one to Kitajima, who quickly declined.

"Because you don't need your appetite curbed like Aiko does," Natsume must've practiced all morning in the mirror to get that line straight with just the right amount of venom on her tongue.

"I think Aiko looks fine," Kitajima practically spoke into her cup before taking a large gulp.

I exhaled smoke through my nostrils, secretly pretending I was a dragon, and stared her into her dark brown eyes as I flicked the ashes onto the arm of the chair. I watched Natsume's brown shadowed eyelid twitch with rage, but she kept herself composed.

"So, you don't go to our school," Natsume turned her attention to Kitajima, whose uniform—though similar in style to ours—was a navy blue. "Where do you go?"

"I go to Kaiou High," She took a sip from the cup, and I wondered if she'd ever drank before.

"That's the all-girl's school, right?" Fukui leaned against the arm of the couch. "Why didn't you go to Daii-chi?"

"Doesn't it have a brother school?" Hayashi had maneuvered her way through the crowded living room into the kitchen, finding the boys pouring shots.

"Yeah, Tenou High," Kitajima's shoulder's shrugged as she turned to face Fukui. "I really liked the campus."

Meiou was the local prestigious co-ed high school; Tenou held the rank for the prestigious all-boys school, while Kaiou held the status for all-girls.

"Ugh," Natsume scoffed, cocking her head back. "I couldn't go to an all-girl's school, it must be so catty. I can't stand being around girl's all the time."

Oh, _shut up_, Natsume.

I spoke up quickly, not missing a beat, "Said the girl who will only approach anything with two heads so long as she can wrap her mouth around one of them."

Fukui's drink spat out her mouth in a mist as Kitajima snorted, pushing liquor into her nose.

I really shouldn't slut-shame, it wasn't like me at all since I always felt strongly about bodily autonomy. But my rude comments were proving me a hypocrite, so I should stop. I just couldn't resist slapping Natsume with any insult at any opening. You see an opportunity and you go for it.

"Bite me, bitch," Natsume turned around to find her mother weaving through the crowd, sunglasses on and purse in hand, matching her blazer and pencil skirt.

The woman was a business professional, owning multiple car dealerships.

"Mom, can I have some of your Xanax?" I stared at Natsume skeptically, wondering how she could casually ask her mother for drugs.

"Whatever you do, do it in the house," Her mother dug into her purse and pulled out car keys before leaving the house.

Kitajima and I stared at each other in silence, dumbfounded, as the front door closed.

"Anyone else?" Natsume looked around for takers.

Kitajima turned her attention elsewhere as Hayashi and Fukui obliged, and all eyes turned to me.

"Aren't you supposed to _not_ take pills when drinking?" I was sure Xanax was on the list of don't-fucking-do-that.

"For tomorrow," Natsume shrugged. "To help with our hang over."

I shook my head, disheartened and not willing to continue, "Sure."

Natsume's chatter with Kitajima drowned out quickly, and my attention span dwindled until I noticed my new found, annoying, acquaintance.

Urameshi flew into the middle of the living room in my line of sight, and I sighed as our eyes met.

"Oi, where's Keiko?"

Like I'd know?

I got up from the chair and made my way into the hallway, looking for the bathroom.

"Where're you going, Aiko?" Hayashi called to me from the couch.

"To take a piss."

In all honesty I did have to use the restroom, I'd been pissing every five minutes since I finished the second water bottle earlier, but I couldn't kill two birds with one stone. Urameshi followed me into the hallway as I came up to a group of boys, gathered around, blocking my way.

"Excuse you," I stuck my free hand between two of the boys for them to make way, and they turned down to see me.

"Hey, you're the girl my little sister's entertaining," His words could've been taken two ways, and I took it the only way that seemed plausible.

Natsume thought she could play me?

His hand placed against the wall as he cornered me, and I ignored the words out of his mouth as I pondered how to play Natsume harder than I was already. I knew she wasn't after my company to actually be friends, and Minamino's words rang true as well, but it irked me that she_ thought_ she was playing me. Behind the taller boy was Urameshi, mumbling obscenities to the college freshman that had cornered me, angry I was being held up.

I began tuning in her older brother again, and I paid attention half way through a horrible pick up line.

"She's right, you're quiet," He put his hand on my shoulder. "I think I can get you to open up, if you**—**"

Ugh, get your hand off me, you pig.

I gently put my hand on his chest, and he stopped talking, curious. I moved it down slowly, teasing slightly, until it passed his tucked in shirt. His eyes widen as I slipped my fingers down, trialing the zipper. I lifted my cup up to my mouth, taking a sip as I placed my hand over his package... and squeezed.

He yelped, knees buckled, and he collapsed, holding his groin as he writhed in pain.

I flicked the ashes of the cigarette on this back as I stepped over him and his friends erupted in laughter, "Not my type."

To be fair, I did squeeze much too hard. But my actions and pride were reinforced as Urameshi laughed all down the hallway until I found the bathroom.

I closed the door on him, but he only slipped inside with ease.

"Like I'd know where Keiko is," I kept my voice barely above a whisper as Urameshi sat in the air with insouciance. "I've been avoiding her since last night. Do you know how hard it is to avoid someone once you actually meet them? You begin seeing them everywhere."

I shoved the cigarette through his face, "Exhibit A."

"She's still doubting that I'm going to come back," He crossed his arms, ignoring my taunts.

"She's not the one in charge of the cremation, is she?"

"No—"

"Then what's the problem?"

"She still doubts it even after hearing me herself. She's convinced that it really was a dream last night, and today's the last day for me to talk to anyone close."

"Huh?" I stuck the cigarette in my mouth, inhaling hard, sharp, wanting it to curb my appetite.

"My trial back to life begins today and I can't talk to anyone—"

"Am I lucky enough to be on this list of no contact?" Obviously not, we'd only met last night, but I could be hopeful.

"No," A female's voice echoed in the bathroom.

I whipped around, turning a full 360 degrees, leaving a trail of smoke as I looked for who'd seen me talking to myself. But above the toilet was a blue haired girl, floating, perched comfortably on an oar.

"The rules say Yusuke can't communicate with close ones through spiritual methods," She read off a small pamphlet, pink eyes darting about the paper. "But, there's a way you can tell her, Yusuke."

"Yeah, I can have Aiko tell her," He held his feet together as he floated up towards the ceiling.

"Not happening," I flicked the ashes in the sink. "I'm not going out of my way to play match maker. It's more meaningful to tell your girlfriend how you feel on your own."

"She's not my girlfriend!" I didn't think ghosts could blush, but I said nothing since he'd pass it off as a flush of anger.

"There's another way," The blue haired girl perked up and I cut her off.

"And who are you?"

She giggled and gripped the edge of her sleeves, holding them up, "I'm Botan! Guide to the Reikai."

"Grim reaper," I noted, remembering I had seen a woman like her before, guiding my Grandpa, who was reluctant to leave and wanted to stay on Earth and harass us all.

"Well, yes," She turned back to Urameshi, and I remembered that I needed to find a suitable time when I could corner Urameshi into explaining everything to me. I was slacking with my reputation of being nosy. "You can possess a body and tell Keiko yourself."

Urameshi's sly grin worked my way, and the back of my hand flew through his transparent face.

"Your host has already been decided," She opened the pamphlet and flipped through it. "Your friend with the highest Reiki."

"A friend…?" Urameshi became skeptical, his face drawn out. "Is there even such a person?"

"Welp," I waved to him, turning towards the door.

"Hey, wait! I'll be on foot if I'm possessing someone," He thought that'd help his case.

But I understood his point, it would be hard to find someone when you couldn't fly above town.

"Where does she go to school?" I peered over my shoulder before turning the doorknob.

"Sarayashiki."

I opened the door, prompting Urameshi's complaints.

"Natsume," I called down the hall as I stepped into the living room.

Curled brown hair turned away from me, revealing Natsume's flushed face, "What, bitch?"

"Where do girls from Sarayashiki usually hang out?"

She raised a curious eyebrow, "I see those girls down in the shops on Fifteenth. It's like another Junior High for them to crawl around in. Why?"

"Curious," I peered over my shoulder once more to Urameshi and Botan, who both quickly flew through the ceiling, embarking on their quest.

"It's only six and the party's just getting started," She waved me over. "C'mon, the sun hasn't even set yet. I'm tryna get shit faced before nightfall."

Don't strain yourself using big words, Natsume.

Ugh, I still hadn't been able to use the restroom, "Classy way to start the night."

But a new guest at the door created chaos, as nobody had bothered to check out the window to see the two cop cars parked on the street outside. The policeman stepped inside, and I wasn't surprised since a noise complaint was probably filed a while ago. That's what happens when you blare music in a residential neighborhood.

An older boy's voice rang out from the hallway, "Scatter!"

How many illegal substances did they bring?!

"Kitajima," I snapped my friend, reaching over the back of the chair for my satchel. "Let's go."

She quickly set the red cup down, grabbing her satchel as she stood next to me while the mass of people in the house scrambled around. Many ran into rooms, jumping out windows, and the sliding back door opened letting the mob of college freshmen pour outside.

"Out back," I grabbed her wrist so we wouldn't separate in the chaos.

We maneuvered through the crowd of people who scrambled into rooms so they could hop out windows. Natsume and her henchwomen followed the two of us as we made it into the backyard.

"Over here," Fukui ran towards the side of the house, ready to hop the fence.

That would put her in the cop's sight, but I said nothing as I walked towards the fence opposite to the backyard door because I couldn't give less of a shit about that girl.

I chucked my satchel over the fence, and hopped on the fence, grabbing onto the ledge. It took all my strength as my muscles were still weak, but I managed to pull myself over the fence as some of the college boys tackled the woodwork in a desperate escape. Perching myself on the fence, hurting my bottom, I offered my hand to help Kitajima over, who easily landed on the neighbor's lawn.

From this view, I could see the kids scattering about the houses in panic, everyone jumping into other's lawns and high tailing it out of the perimeter. I followed suit, hoping over the fence and grabbing my satchel before running with crowd of teens and young adults across the new backyard.

Many hopped onto the other fence, where the main street lay on the other side, but all we had to do was open the door.

I shoved one boy out of the way mid-climb and unlocked the door, letting their body weight swing the door open. And like a pack of wild animals, we all poured out, running in separate directions down the street from the driveway. Kitajima, Hayashi, and Natsume followed quickly behind me as I wheezed, pushing my legs to carry me down the street.

"Wait!" Fukui's cry from behind us prompted us to look over our shoulders, finding her just having left the backyard we'd run from.

"The party's not done yet, girls!" Natsume's cackle was ragged, mixed with her panting. "Tonight's just getting started! We're taking this bad boy into the city!"

It wasn't even dusk yet and these shenanigans were happening. That meant I wasn't going to be able to use the bathroom for a long time. Either I would have to wait it out or I would need to find a tree to piss on.

Ugh, I hoped Urameshi finds Keiko in time. At least one of us would be relieved by the end of the night.

* * *

**A/N: **Fun fact, Yoshihiro Togashi, creator of YYH, married Naoko Takeuchi, creator of Sailor Moon.

Meiou is the surname of Sailor Pluto in the original Japanese text, whether the high school or S. Pluto came first is unknown to me.

Guess which Sailor Senshi's I used for the other schools.

And don't be afraid to tell me what you think so far.


	3. Order Made

**Surely before I was born, I was asked by someone, somewhere, "The past or the future—I'll let you see one of them, so which one would you prefer?"**

**I probably chose the past, so I could become someone kind instead of someone strong.**

—

**—Minamino.**

"I'll get it, dear," my mother began to sit up on the couch at the sound of our doorbell, so I had to act quickly and make it to the hallway before she'd get up.

I had spent the past half hour in my room, toying with some seeds I'd found in my mother's garden out back so she and Hatanaka could have their alone time. She had to cancel her at-home date with him last night after he insisted she get her rest, and she pushed to let her make it up to him by having him over for lunch today.

Though Hatanaka and I got along relatively well, I often felt the need to keep away during his visits. It was a sense of privacy and respect, I guess you could say.

Forcing the flower I'd made bloom out of boredom only seconds ago to wilt, I quickly made my way down the stairs after throwing the plant away.

"I've got it, mother," I looked over to the living room upon reaching the front door, and found my mother lying down again.

I assumed it would be Hatanaka, who had just left a while ago, possibly having forgotten something.

But the smell of cigarettes and alcohol graced my nose as I stepped up to the door, someone attempted to mask the smells with a cucumber perfume. My curiosity rose as I found Hojo standing on the front porch. And, like my satchel in school, she held up a plastic grocery bag of food in front of me, a stack of papers tucked under her other arm, and in hand, again, was another large water bottle.

Surely she wouldn't have the audacity show up smelling like a bar, it was only my heightened sense of smell.

Sunglasses over her eyes, her peculiar hair tied up into a bun on the crown of her head, and a baggy sweatshirt that she'd probably dug out of a corner in her closet somewhere. She was clearly hung over, but that wasn't my issue at the moment. I was more concerned about her ability to have found my house.

And why she'd come so late, near dusk, was beyond me. She'd probably woken up only a while ago. I had never taken her for the partying type.

I was tempted to close the door on her, not wanting to give her any reason to pry into my life for her personal amusement. But she'd come to see my mother, who would enjoy her visit. So I stepped aside, allowing her entrance, and watched as my mother peaked up from her position on the couch in the living room to see who'd come over.

She handed me the grocery bag and eyed the living room through her sunglasses. I could faintly see the outline of her cheekbones and eyes from behind her large sunglasses, as if they were taking in the amount of space she had in this house.

"Oh, Aiko!" She smiled as she adjusted herself to sit up straight. "What a nice surprise!"

"I'd heard about your little dizzy spell so I brought some food over," she returned my mother's smile and then held up a stack of papers. "And Minamino's school work."

"Thank you. The food didn't cost much, did it?"

"Oh, no, don't worry," Hojo hadn't taken her sunglasses off yet, and began moving into the kitchen with a smile too sly. "I get a discount."

I followed the girl into the kitchen and set the bag of food on the counter.

Turning to Hojo, I already assumed her answer, "What kind of discount?"

"The five-finger discount," she set my school work and her bottle on the kitchen table and sat down, making herself at home despite it her first time being invited inside. She dug in her purse, pulling out q-tips and lotion, "Those ingredients are for miso soup."

I set the bag of food in front of her as she rubbed lotion on the q-tips, and she took my hint, understanding she shouldn't have brought stolen goods into my mother's home.

"Oh, cheer up, Momma's boy," she scoffed and lifted her sunglasses up, perching them atop her head. She resembled a raccoon with all the smudge around her eyes. If we were in a more horrid lighting I could threaten to compare her to a corpse, "I get things free there anyways. Start cookin'."

I couldn't help but prod at the girl, preparing an insult as she used a compact mirror to let her quickly rid her make-up, "You can't cook?"

"Never was good at it," The q-tip accumulated her make-up, turning black quickly as her eyes became clear.

I began inspecting her ingredients, "Not surprising from an—"

My eyes flickered down to hers as she quickly stood up, slamming her items on the table and sending the chair a few feet away, skidding on the tiled kitchen floor to muffle my observation. I'd hit close to home with that sentence, and her face tensed as she walked by me, snatching food from my hand.

She hissed into my ear, words filled with a copious amount of virulence, "I'm recovering, you insensitive shit."

"Is everything alright in there?" My mother's concerned voice carried in from the living room.

Hojo beat me to the lie, speaking with false reassurance as she rolled up her sleeves and turned on the faucet, "I'm fine. I just tripped over the chair."

And my mother bought the lie, as did every other adult she spoke to. It raised my interest in how easily words came out her mouth, it was hard to notice what was a lie or the truth.

"Are you alright?"

"She's fine, mother," I knew she was getting up from the couch, and I wanted her to stay put as long as possible to rest.

She'd only laid down after Hatanaka and I had to corner her into the couch, so I was adamant in keeping her there.

But my answering for Hojo only prompted an uppity glare, one of hurt pride. I couldn't tell if she was upset that I'd lied for her or if she was still upset over my comment. I ignored her glare and watched as she turned away to begin dicing vegetables. With how fast and comfortable she seemed with the large knife only inches away from her hand, I figured she'd have some talent with food. I threw away her black q-tips and picked up the chair before stepping beside her to ready the soup, filling the pot with water.

I was amused at how sensitive she'd become, and we stood in an awkward silence for a few seconds. But it was just me, surprisingly, because the insult seemed to have washed away like water off a duck's back for her.

"No, you put _wakame_ in there," she held up the dried seaweed as I almost pour the dashi in the large pot. "Damn, you really are a Momma's boy. She cook all your meals?"

I was ready to dole out another hit on her disorder, but her playful grin halted my tongue. She had become upset over my insult, yet was still willing to prod.

"Dice the tofu and put rice in the steamer," she took the pot from me. "I'll handle the soup. It'll taste like shit though, with just the two of us cooking. She'll have to be admitted to the hospital after we feed her this crap."

After Hojo let out a quiet, dark chuckle at her disturbing joke, I pushed it aside as her own way to cope with someone's sickness. I stepped next to her and helped prepare the meal, and in our silence, I remembered how surprising it was for her to actually have found my address. She held true to her reputation.

"I know you've got everyone's business tucked away, but I didn't think you'd know my address," I kept my voice low, not wanting my voice to carry into the living room for my mother to hear.

Lips puckered in a strange smile, one of pride, "You underestimate how popular you are. All I had to do was ask a second year if she knew where you lived. Said your house was on her way to school."

I hadn't paid enough attention about my social status at Meiou, especially since we had barely finished our first month there. She looked up to me, noticing my curious stare.

"You're a 'regulation hottie' among the girls at Meiou, according to most of the girls that know who you are," My eyebrows rose at her words. "I think it's funny because I don't see you talk to anyone but the boys in the botany club."

She was an observer, watching, prying, understanding the population on our campus.

"It's only the beginning of May," I ignored her comment, noting that school started in April. "And you seem to have worked your way up to the sharks."

"You mean cunts," Her voice lowered with each syllable as she heard my mother's footsteps, and she soon entered the kitchen.

"Do you always cook at home, Aiko?" My mother turned to get the plating, but I hurried to the cupboards to beat her to it, forcing her to sit down.

"No, I'm not allowed to cook at home," Her chuckle was strange, softer this time. "I'm a bad cook. Mom says I won't be able to find a husband. And if I do, I'll end up killing him with my food."

"I'm sure your cooking is fine, Aiko," My mother's laughter was meant to console, but Aiko, with her back turned, widened her eyes and gently shook her head.

"We'll see about that," Hojo's sang her disbelief in a whispered tune.

My mother sat at the table and watched the two of us work to make what I already knew would turn out to be a horrible soup. Though it would have come out fairly tasteful if I had taken charge, Hojo insisted on cooking the soup herself. Creating concoctions and viles from plants was different than creating a meal to eat, but anyone else's cooking would have been better than this. The rice that I took charge of, if I could say so, turned out fine.

"Is it supposed to bubble?" She peered into the pot, steam rising up to her face, causing her mascara to clump together.

"No, that makes it bland," my mother laughed behind us, prompting Hojo to pick the pot up from the stove, waiting for the soup to still.

As usual, Hojo was honest: she couldn't cook. She laughed as my mother grimaced upon tasting her soup.

"Told you I can't cook," Hojo's serving remained untouched. "I told you, Minamino, you should have cooked it."

I couldn't help but deadpan at her words, but she only stifled a grin as she glanced over to me, happy to see my exasperation.

"Oh, it's fine, really," my mother laughed nervously.

"It's actually decent," I lied, gesturing to her bowl and putting her in the spotlight. "Try it."

Light brown irises glowered over to me as she picked up her spoon, avoiding solid objects in the soup, allowing only liquid into her body.

"The tofu's great, actually," my mother went out of her way to dig out vegetables and tofu from the pot, ignoring the liquid. "Whatever you did wrong, Aiko, it made the tofu delicious."

I watched the girl carefully pick a small cut of tofu out and eat it, staring right at me, an attempt to prove her earlier words true. And as my mother's back was turned to her, she childishly flipped me off, tongue out and all.

It must have taken strength to eat a piece of tofu. I wondered if she made herself throw up or if she merely restricted her intake.

"How are you feeling today, Shiori?" Hojo directed her attention to my mother as she sat down.

My mother had taken yesterday off after her fainting, though only due to the protests of myself and Hatanaka. She worked herself far too hard, far too often, and her health was deteriorating. To her, though, her sick feelings must've been only a small hindrance.

"Oh, much better," my mother picked around the soup, targeting the diced tofu. "I was just a bit tired."

"My mom said warm tea or milk helps put you to sleep," Hojo dipped her spoon into the soup, stirring it. "Helps my little brother go to sleep when he's too hyper, or just can't fall asleep."

"I could try that sometime, any specific tea?"

"I think it's something like chamomile," she put her elbows on the table, resting her head in her hand. "I also heard miso soup is supposed to help you sleep too. Something about an acid that promotes melatonin."

"Shuichi," my mother turned to me, excited about possibly having ingredients to make tea. "Don't we have some herbs in the back garden for me to make some tea?"

Hojo's brown brows raised in a teasing fashion and she grinned, knowing exactly where to take the next conversation.

"I'm sure we do, mother," I pushed the soup away, and though I knew what herbs to use, I wouldn't give Hojo the satisfaction. "I'll have to check tomorrow which ones we need."

The two females talked majority of the evening and their conversations followed well into the darkness. Hojo only ever addressed me in the conversation to throw minor, childish insults at me.

"Bet you fold his underwear into little squares to fit neatly in his dresser."

"Do you sew his name in his underwear next to each day? Shuichi—Monday."

"I bet he cried on his first day of kindergarten when you dropped him off."

And my mother laughed all the while, entertained by Hojo's acknowledgement of my mother's love for me. But I kept my tongue in my mouth, keeping returning insults at bay, since it was no concern of mine whether or not she needed to see proper counseling. I could have doled out some teasing on her family, but I had yet to meet anyone else.

"I didn't realize it'd gotten so late," my mother looked up at the clock, seeing it had passed ten.

Hojo finished the last of her water bottle as she followed my mother's gaze, looking up at the clock.

"Yeah, I should get going," Hojo stood up from her chair, adjusting her sweatshirt to hide her stomach.

"Shuichi, will you walk her home?" Hojo looked down at my mother as she walked behind her, dreading my presence with her on her departure.

My mother turned to see her, and Hojo fixed her expression to a clean slate, "Where do you live?"

"It's really not far at all."

My mother's eyes darted to me, a silent instruction to accompany her regardless.

And though Hojo didn't want my company, I felt slightly inclined to do her this favor. She'd come to visit my mother when she wasn't feeling well, the least I could do was endure another half hour with her at my mother's request.

* * *

—**Aiko.**

"You can just go somewhere you like," I looked up towards Minamino, who had obliged his mother's request. "I'm taking the long way home."

"My mother is a bit nosy," he replied, walking slightly ahead of me. "She'll ask me all about your home life."

"Tell her we live in a marvelous two story suburban home with two family, house trained dogs, and a lovely greenhouse in the backyard."

I could only assume my lie interested him, and he tagged along, following me as I rounded corners and decided what detours to take in order to avoid my fuming parents. I hadn't told them I would be out late last night. In fact, I hadn't told them anything. I didn't even tell them I was visiting Minamino and his mother—I sneaked out when I got home earlier. I was in for an ass kicking when I got home. And with that thought, I quickly realized it was a slight blessing for Minamino to have come along.

They wouldn't yell at me in front of a guest.

Pondering on the situation, if I should bother with going home right away and get everything over with, I dug in my purse for the fresh box of cigarettes I'd swiped from the grocery store. Unfortunately, the little box of laxatives I swiped along with it dropped out of my purse. The sound of cardboard on concrete drew Minamino's eyes to me as I picked up the little box, quickly shoving it back inside my purse.

Now, I was open about many, many things—almost everything, actually, so long as the person I talked to wouldn't drive me into more counselling appointments. And I wouldn't mind telling anyone else that I had laxatives. But something felt off about telling this boy I was taking these to force out what everyone was forcing me to eat. I wanted to spare him the image of me blowing my brains out on the toilet, so I would happily lie if my mouth didn't work faster than my brain.

Thankfully, though, he didn't ask. It wasn't as if he saw the words on the box anyways.

The plan was fool-proof: avoid the food as much as possible, eat only when forced or being watched, and take the laxatives to rid that garbage from my body ASAP. That way, they'd see I was eating, and the counseling appointments would stop. I'd binge on weigh-in days and lax that garbage out after being checked out.

"Do you mind?" I ripped the plastic wrapping off the box of cancer sticks and dug one out.

"You'll have a hole in your throat soon from those," his reply was honestly all I needed, and I inched away from him, giving us space as we walked together.

"It's just a psychological thing," I lit the stick, turning away from him to exhale a cloud.

He turned towards me, trying to understand my words from the sentence that would only make sense if I'd finished it.

"They say they curb your appetite," his green eyes took on a strange polish under the street lampposts. Surely this boy couldn't be full Japanese, hell, sometimes I didn't even think he was a boy with how soft his features were. "Started them when my parents stopped letting me exercise. I think it's a psychological addiction."

Okay, so that was what I _wanted_ to believe, we all knew it was physically addicting too... It started as a psychological addiction, even before I smoked one. I craved to get my hands on them from what I'd been told. The thought of having something that could make me not hungry was a god send.

"So what do you fear more," God, paging Therapist Minamino. "Gaining weight or food?"

Taken by surprise, I stopped in my tracks. I hadn't been asked that before.

He stopped a few steps ahead of me, waiting patiently for an answer, but I had no idea what to say. I had never thought about it before. I had never thought of one fear overpowering the other. It was as if they worked together to create a hatred and, dare I use the word, phobia. They worked together, I couldn't fear one without the other, I couldn't hate one without the other.

"I..." My jaw hung open, unsure of what to say. "I don't know."

Blank stare, green eyes, his facial expression would have said he didn't care about my answer. But he wouldn't have asked if he didn't want to know.

"I just want to be thirty-five kilograms..." I shrugged, feeling nervous, suddenly reminded of how fat I was at a whopping forty-three.

I almost always had an answer for questions, for when I was addressed, that's why I asked so many questions. That's one of the reasons why I was so nosy.

Ashes from my cigarette fell to the ground, and he said nothing as he sized me up, taking in my height-weight ratio. I inhaled again, calming myself, and focused on the issue of going home. We began walking again, in silence, and I juggled the possibilities for going home. How long did I want to drag out the anticipation of my ass-whooping?

I could go home now, bring him with me to ward off the shitstorm that was brewing in my home, even if just for a few minutes. But my apartment was nothing like his home—much smaller, much cheaper. But he wasn't the type to mouth off like Natsume, he'd keep his insults quiet, between the two of us, hitting hard where it counted.

I turned on my heels, backtracking to a street we'd just passed that would lead us directly to the street that held my apartment. But as if he was one step ahead of me, he turned around with me. Surprised, I turned around to walk backwards, watching him curiously.

"Watch out for the light post," his warning was simple, but my reflexes were nothing compared to his.

I stepped out of the way too late. My heel hit the edge of the lamp, and I toppled backwards, smacking my head on the concrete. The stars in the sky grew, bright and colorful, as a sharp pain trickled up my skull. Minamino's silhouette leaned into my view, and I seemed to regain control of my vision as my eyes adjusted to the light from the lamp post.

I saw two of him hovering above me, twins, moving smoothly back and forth, slightly transparent.

"How are you feeling?" Him and his twin's hands remained in their pockets as they looked down at me, finding my fall the high light of his night.

"Like shit."

He extended his hand, offering to help me. But I lay on the concrete, dizzy and exhausted, staring past him and focusing on the lamppost.

He squatted next to me and his double followed, both holding out two fingers, "How many fingers am I holding up?"

I stared for a moment, watching his twin steady himself in place with his original.

"Two," I rolled my head over, feeling the cold, rough concrete on my cheek, and stared up at the sole Minamino and his hair. It took on a darker tint from the back-lighting. "Are you full Japanese?"

"No," he rested his arms on knees, eyeing me curiously.

If anyone deserved to be looked at with curiosity, it was him and his hair.

"That's cool," I gingerly stuck the cigarette in my mouth again, and he extended his hand once more, smiling with amusement.

Dizzy, I leaned against the wall along the street, collecting myself before continuing with him. Deep breaths helped, but I knew if I bothered to quickly get home I'd probably collapse. Smacking your head on the ground when you're already light-headed from no food wasn't how you wanted to spend your time. Taking another drag, I eyed Minamino, wondering why he'd actually taken responsibility for walking me home.

I guess he was just a Momma's Boy.

"Where was your dad from?" He stood in front of me, feet away to avoid the smoke.

"He died a while ago, I don't ask my mother about him."

For some reason, I had a feeling he didn't care much about his father.

"How'd he die?" I exhaled smoke through my nostrils, becoming a dragon again.

"A car accident when I was young."

"That sucks."

God, Aiko, A-plus consoling. Give yourself a gold star for trying.

I stared at the ground around his feet, thinking of a way to make up for the inconsiderate reply.

"Sorry," I changed the subject and watched smoke snake through the air around me. "Why do you like plants? You're in the botany club."

Quick retort after a sly smile, "Why don't you like your friends? You hang out with the upperclassmen."

Was that some rhetorical question? Whatever it was, his evasion worked.

I shrugged, dropping the finished butt onto the concrete below before continuing home, "Because she pays for things."

So I was materialistic, sue me. I liked clothes, shoes, jewelry, and make-up and I looked damn good with all the aforementioned on. I was milking Natsume's wealth because she was spoiled and had as good a personality as a horse's ass. Plus, we held this mutual distaste for each other and to be honest, I was still trying to pin point why she kept me around.

Our still long walk was silent as I maneuvered the two of us through back alleys and short cuts that I'd found after living in the area for so long. But as I applied lotion, I began to regret guiding him to my apartment complex. It was small, and the outside of the complex was a tad bit run down from being near the little riverfront.

I checked my watch, hoping my parents would be asleep, but as we approached my apartment, I found the light in the living room on, illuminating through the window.

Compared to his large home, mine was small, crowded. One bedroom, one bathroom, and a living room where my parents slept. Our home wasn't messy, in fact it was quite tidy and clean, but it was still a downgrade for what Minamino was probably used to seeing.

"You can leave," I worked up the courage to open the door, knowing they were waiting for me.

It wasn't smart of me to come home reeking of alcohol and cigarettes as I had earlier, especially after not contacting them that I was even staying out. To top that off, I sneaked out again to bring Minamino his school work and some food for Shiori.

But the door opened, almost dramatically, and my father's furious face was visible even in his silhouette. Through the yellow tinted lighting in our home, and the shadowing of his face, I could still see a red tint in his cheeks.

"Where have you—" he paused, noticing Minamino by my side.

"I was at his house," I gestured to Minamino. "This is Minamino, his mom was sick and I brought over some food for her as a 'get well' gesture."

"Did you cook?" My father raised a curious eyebrow, composing himself in front of Minamino, just as I expected he would.

"Yes."

Horror struck his face as he turned to Minamino, "Is she in the hospital?"

"Asshole!" I punched my father in the arm as he laughed, changing his demeanor to not create an uncomfortable atmosphere.

Minamino couldn't help but chuckle beside me, though I was unsure if it was polite or if he'd actually found my father's insult amusing.

"Her cooking was fine," Minamino smiled politely, and noticed my mother coming up beside my father, pushing herself into the doorway.

She hadn't noticed Minamino and began signing furiously, her wrists and hands slapped together occasionally, emphasizing her anger. Minamino seemed surprise at my mother's actions, not having expected her to be deaf.

"_This is Minamino,_" I emphasized my signing as I spoke to her, translating for my classmate. "_His mother was sick and I was visit—_"

She snatched my wrist and pulled me inside, shoving me into the living room. The jerking motion rattled my brain, causing the pain from my fall to come back. She then returned to the doorway, bowing a bit to Minamino, no doubt with a polite smile on her face to thank him for walking me home.

Minoru peeked around the corner of the hallway, whispering loud enough for me to hear, "What's happening?"

"Go to your room, Minoru," I sighed. "They're mad."

My parents weren't mad often, but when they were, I didn't like Minoru seeing their wrath. My father loved yelling, it wasn't like my mother could ask him to tone it down for the neighbors or anything.

"Our room," He corrected me.

God, Minoru, don't remind me.

"Go!" I hissed at him, lurching towards him to scare him.

He cowered back, holding up his favorite blanket in front of his mouth, "But there's someone waiting to see you."

"Huh?"

"A big brother."

Big brother? Oh, god. Urameshi?

"Slicked back hair?"

Minoru nodded, I never would have guessed him to see ghosts. Maybe it was the fact he was a child, since children's sixth senses were always stronger when they were young, or maybe he had a gift (ha, more like curse) like me. I peered over to our room in the hallway and saw Urameshi leaning out of the doorway, he had a sheepish grin plastered on, as if to apologize for getting caught by my little brother.

"What'll happen if you tell mom or dad about him?"

Minoru's eyes widened as I clenched the air and gestured my hands upwards, mocking a wedgie.

"Okay, I promise I won't tell."

"Good, now go to your room."

"Our room."

"Go!" I stomped my foot towards him, feigning an attack, and he turned around and ran into our room.

Ugh, god, now he got me saying it.

My father thanked Minamino as he left, and closed the door gently. The calm only lasted a few seconds before both of my parents turned around, anger spread across their faces.

It was times like this I wished I was deaf.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay okay. So Kurama's full Japanese and in the manga his hair is black but seriously. Red hair in Japan isn't normal, at least not naturally. Why did they do this in the anime? It wasn't for fashion, that's for sure, red and pink clash. Call the fashion police. Uuuuuuugh. So bleh, I threw that in there.

Btw, for those of you who are like me and are American, and use pounds instead of kg's: 35kg is roughly 77lbs, 43kg is 94lbs.


	4. Oats We Sow

**A/N: **Fun fact, I was going to actually name Aiko "Sayaka" but then I remembered the little ghost girl. But Aiko sounds cuter so holla.

Ironically, Aiko's name means "love child." Ain't much love in this child.

* * *

**—Aiko.**

"Go," I looked up to Urameshi's transparent body that floated in front of me, flicking the ashes from my cigarette onto his porch. "Awaaaaaaaaay."

I stood in front of his apartment, watching him peer inside the window, watching someone once more.

"You're getting creepier with this whole stalking thing," I peered through the window and quickly moved away, remembering that I was actually visible. "And when are you coming back to life, again? It's been three weeks now."

After the party fiasco with Natsume and then sneaking out to visit Shiori, I had been grounded those three weeks. I wasn't allowed to leave the house for anything but school and work. And since Urameshi had slipped up and let Minoru see him, he'd been around often enough. My sketchbooks were filled to the brim with sketches of Urameshi in stupid poses and fantasies that he'd requested. Many of the drawings were cartoons and doodles, only a few had actually been given time and effort.

"Draw me as a gang lord," He'd snickered over my shoulder one evening. "With plenty of battle scars."

"Why would you want battle scars?" I'd looked up at him from over my shoulder. "That means you got hit."

"Yeah, but that means I survived," He'd crossed his legs and floated in front of me. "I fought a strong opponent and lived, with the proof."

"With that kind of talk you're just going to come back to life so you can die again."

"Hey, I've been fighting for as long as I can remember, and I didn't die from losing a fight. I wasn't called the Number One Punk at Sarayashiki for nothing."

"Sounds like you gave yourself that title."

"Look, I—"

"Okay," I'd turned back to the sketchbook, cutting him off. "I'm going to give you a fucked up face."

"Bitch..."

And then my little brother, who found Urameshi to be his idol, "Draw me with Big Brother Yusuke."

God, the kid even started gelling his hair back to look like him.

So instead of having things I liked in my sketchbook, it was full of those two kids who both acted the same age—five. But I enjoyed it, it was drawing and it was fun, and it made the two of them happy, or at least amused, so I didn't mind at all. It helped the three weeks pass by easier than I expected.

Besides, I got the main information from him about the Reikai and how his death was pointless (and when I learned that I didn't stop laughing for a few good hours) which was why he was being allowed to come back to life.

But really, when he told me that, I thought I was crazy and he was a figment of my imagination. But Minoru noticing Urameshi reassured me I wasn't insane.

Anyways, luckily, today was my day off. I wasn't grounded anymore. Halle-fuckin'-lujah.

Urameshi stared at me, turning away from the window he was once looking inside.

"I know, I've been counting the weeks by how visible your roots are," he didn't know how lucky he was to be transparent because my hands would have been around his neck so fast. "That an inch, now?"

"Motherfu—"

"Yusuke," a young, transparent girl appeared behind him, floating next to Botan. "Who's this?"

Great, round up all the ghosts and drag them to me, Urameshi.

"Aiko," he dragged his face down with his fingers, frowning dramatically. "She always looks bored."

I swung my satchel through his face, watching it fly through his frame.

"She's your friend?" The little girl's blue eyes scanned my face.

"Hell no," the two of us stepped in front of the girl, cornering her.

"She has a stick up her ass," He took his turn, facing me.

"He's so annoying," I turned to Urameshi, mocking him. "Aiko, help me do this. Aiko, help me do that."

"Excuse me for thinking you were a good person."

"I am," I changed the subject, turning to see his apartment door. "Who are you stalking today?"

"We're watching over Keiko!" The blue girl floated up to the window, and I turned to Botan.

"So who's she?" I jabbed my thumb at the little girl.

"Her name's Sayaka," Botan flew up next to her, and I peeked through the window, finding Keiko cleaning up the pigsty that was Urameshi's apartment.

"Strange, didn't think there were many ghosts around," I mumbled.

"There are a lot of earth bound spirits that we can't take to the Reikai with us," Botan had this little smile on her face, as if it didn't bother her at all that she brought people to be sentenced to heaven or hell. A sentence of, often, eternity.

"So she's one of them."

Botan nodded.

"And she's latched herself onto Urameshi," and Botan nodded again.

"Why are you wearing your school jacket?" Urameshi made his way from the window to me. "It's hot as hell out."

"How the hell would you know? You're a ghost, you don't even have nerve endings."

It wasn't as hot to me as others, besides, my body had always been sensitive to the weather. In the winter I had, like, seven layers of clothes on and looked like I lived in Antarctica.

"They announced a fire watch today," Urameshi deadpanned.

"Aiko, who're you talking to?"

I whipped around, finding Natsume and her henchwomen behind her.

"Ghosts," I stared the girl down in her brown eyes, until she became uneasy.

Whether or not she believed me wasn't my problem, besides it would probably leave her wondering about it until she lay on her death bed.

She let out a nervous laughter before noticing the cigarette in my hand, finding something else to concentrate on, "Still can't quit?"

"Obviously not," I stuck it in my mouth as Fukui spoke up.

"We're going shopping, c'mon," they knew I was strapped for cash and couldn't afford their taste of clothing, but I was going to have my way soon.

"Sad you can't quit," Hayashi's words rang with sincerity, and Natsume's venomous words cut through.

"Yeah, sad. But I'm surprised you haven't started restricting your diet again, you've been putting on some weight."

I inhaled sharply as I began walking with the girl's, a smooth wave of smoke filled my lungs to take my mind off her insult. I could hear Urameshi's insults being thrown at the girls as I walked away with them.

"Those are some dirty bitches, why are you still hanging out with them?!"

I pushed my hair over my shoulder, simultaneously waving him off. I had a plan that I hadn't yet voice to him.

I scouted around the little store, flipping through racks of clothing I felt too fat to bother with, and watched as Natsume strutted out of the changing room with the outfit she picked out.

"How does it look?" Hand on her hips, she turned her nose up, feeling she looked fabulous.

"Perfect," Hayashi clasped her hands together.

"Ten out of ten, would buy," Fukui nodded.

Natsume looked towards me for my encouragement, and I eyed the outfit, realizing the shirt flared out towards her waist.

"Makes you look chubby," I turned back to the clothing rack, seeing Natsume's face fall from the corner of my eye.

I wasn't lying or trying to hurt the girl's feelings. It was an ugly shirt and it made her look fat. As much as I didn't like her, I also couldn't resist taking a jab at her self esteem. She retreated back into the changing room, and Fukui's chocolate brown eyes flickered towards me.

"That was rude," she snapped. "You really hurt her self-esteem."

"Fukui," I turned to her, forcing the sweetest smile I could possibly muster. "Ask me if I care."

Fukui hesitated, but Hayashi's dark eyes had a hopeful sparkle in them as she asked for her, "Do you care?"

"No," I dropped this smile as I turned back to the rack, flipping through the hanging blouses.

"This one's flawless," Natsume's voice carried across the store as she strutted out once more.

"Yes!" Fukui and Hayashi nodded in agreement, and Natsume, as stupid as she was, looked over at me again for validation.

Fukui and Hayashi bore into me with their eyes, daring me to hurt her feelings. Like I gave a crap.

"Not with those jeans."

"Tough talk for someone who can't afford a new outfit," Fukui's insults, for once, weren't printed and handed to her to memorize.

"You're a real bitch, Aiko," Natsume put her hands on her hips, and a sly smile grew on her face. "That's why I like you."

Fukui and Hayshi held their tongues as Natsume turned to them.

"Real friends are honest," Natsume shoved her nose in the air as she returned to the dressing room, and I side eyed her henchwomen. "You both can learn something from Aiko."

I couldn't hide my smug smile from them, and I shook with silent laughter as I continued to look through the clothing rack.

Only minutes later did Natsume come out with blouses and jeans, paying for them with Daddy's credit card, and we were quick out the store. Fukui used her five finger discount to swipe some bracelets, and I walked a few steps behind the girls as they exited, not wanting to be associated with thieves and thrown in jail.

Okay, yeah, so I stole from the grocery store. The manager didn't care. He'd seen me swipe cigarettes yesterday and he watched me lug the bag of food that I took to Shiori out the doors weeks ago. I didn't even think you could call it stealing if they were letting you take it. Besides, I knew my boundaries.

"Mani-pedi's," Natsume gasped, becoming excited at the thought and turned around to see me. "My treat."

"Sure," I was planning on milking this girl for all her worth anyways.

But Urameshi's body floated in front of me, panicked, frantic.

"The apartment complex is on fire!"

I walked through him, ignoring him, until it clicked.

His body.

My family.

"Hey!" His fist flew through the back of my head, sending shivers down my spine. "My body's going to burn to a crisp!"

He won't be able to come back!

My apartment!

"Rain-check that," I turned on my heels, darting off towards our apartment complex.

"Aiko!" Natsume called after me, and noticed the looming cloud of smoke that rose to the sky.

"It's spreading," he flew up beside me as I ran through the crowded street. "It could've spread to your apartment already."

If my mother was the only one home with my little brother…

My legs pumped fast, burning in pain. I hadn't exercised in months because my parents wouldn't allow it. And fuck cigarettes, dude. Man, I wish I'd quit. I was going to quit. I was already out of breath by the time I turned into a short cut, less than a minute after running.

We all knew I wasn't going to quit.

"There's Keiko!" I wheezed, pointing to the pig tailed girl that pushed through the crowd of people.

Urameshi flew ahead of me, above the crowd, watching over Keiko. She pushed into the mass of people, merging herself into the crowd and disappearing as she yelled out Urameshi's name.

"Keiko, what the hell are you doing?!" Urameshi was above the crowd, given a birds eye view of the complex. "Get the hell out of there!"

Oh, yeah, but come find me so I can be sent in, you douche bag.

Whatever. Not my problem, I had my family to worry about.

"Dad," I screeched his name over and over as I pushed through the crowd, looking for my family.

He probably wasn't off work yet. Mom wouldn't be able to hear; maybe my little brother was outside, safe.

"Minoru!"

I shoved past the crowd, into the opening of the complex, and darted past Urameshi's apartment searching for my own. The wall of fire along the apartments was growing, spreading, literally devouring the structure. I quickly found the fire had crawled onto my apartment, eating away at the roof and the woodwork near the front door. At this rate, I wouldn't have much time. I chucked my satchel into the distance to make sure it wouldn't catch fire and entered the home.

Nobody was here, at least not in the living room.

The roof continued to creak and sink inwards as I turned around the living room, frantic.

It was plausible that my little brother could still be here, seeing as how my mom would sometimes leave around the corner to the little shop and pick up ingredients for dinner while he watched TV or napped. I searched around the living room, finding where he could have hidden as I smelled the charred wood above me.

"Minoru, where are you?" I yelled into the bathroom, and sprinted into our shared room, finding him napping.

I was right; my mom had gone to the store around the corner after laying him down for a nap.

"Minoru, get up!" I lifted him by his arms.

Though he was only around sixty pounds, my muscles had been deteriorating slowly so it was a struggle to lift him.

"_Ne-chan_," Minoru rubbed his eyes. "Why does it smell like your cooking?"

A five year old was dissing me. God, that's what I got for letting him hang out with Urameshi.

"Get up!" I screamed in his face to jump start his waking, and his eyes widened as I sprayed him with saliva. "The apartment's on fire!"

He scrambled up and reached for his blanket, something he constantly carried around the house, but I yanked him into the hallway. I had a mind to grab my sketchbook but I knew if we didn't have time to grab the blanket that was right next to him, my sketchbook would have to be sacrificed.

"We don't have time for your childish crap!"

His crying was only aggravating me as I dragged him into the grey hazed living room. The fire had eaten through the roof and continued its spread along the apartment and the walls, filling the room with a dark smoke. The creaking of the roof was unsettling, disturbing, only making him cry more.

We approached the front door, but obviously, nothing about this would be easy. Sharp cracks drew my attention above the door, finding some woodwork of the ceiling close to collapsing. It inched off the ceiling, charred dust falling off the burning wood.

The eerie creaking only drove me into panic, and I shoved Minoru through the front door, just as the ledge collapsed. Barely grazing Minoru's shirt as he flew through the open door, I backed away from the fallen wood that sent dust and ashes into the air, clouding my face and invading my lungs. A wall of fire blocked my exit, and I searched around the blazing room for another way out.

In the middle of a coughing fit from smoke and burned wood, I ripped the hair tie from my wrist and piled my hair into a bun, not wanting to lose any of my precious hair. Pulling my blazer over my head to protect me, I breathed into my hand, hoping to filter out some of the smoke from my now precious oxygen.

Smoke encompassed the room, hazing my vision as the flames spread across the roof and walls, lighting onto the electrical wires and sparking across the apartment. And now… the floor.

You've gotta be shitting me.

"Aiko!" Urameshi's frame flew through the flames and into my safe circle.

"Is your body okay?" Why bother with my concern? I was already fucked. "And Keiko?"

"We're fine, I got us out," he flew around the room, looking for a way out that I might have missed.

"Don't bother," the oxygen was getting scarcer, thinner.

"The kitchen sink!"

"Yeah, Urameshi, let me just fit into the fucking drain."

Someone should give me props for being a sardonic bitch in this situation.

"No, above it, you idiot! The window!"

The smoke clouded my vision, burned my eyes, but I was able to make out the clearing. Flames surrounded it, but the window itself seemed fairly safe. As I moved to the window for an escape, an elbow smashed through the glass.

The firemen arrived.

Incoherent instructions blared through the window, but with my panic and the blaze of flames around me, along with Urameshi's yelling, I couldn't make out any instructions.

I sprinted towards the window with Urameshi at my side, but the roof collapsed once more, falling into the sink next to the window.

Of fucking course.

I backed away towards the other side of the counter, caught in the middle of the kitchen from the flames around me. That was a sign, there was no point in trying.

"Fuck this, I'm done," I squatted, keeping the blazer wrapped around my head. "There's no way out."

"Jump through it, you can make it!" Urameshi got in my face, I could tell since his loud voice threatened to break my eardrums. "There's room!"

"I can't! It doesn't matter anyways! The tuition and counseling payments will stop and things will be easier for them, it'll be fine!"

"You still have some time before the fire covers the window, Aiko. Fucking jump, you idiot!" His fists ran through my head, sending shiver after cold shiver throughout my body.

God, Urameshi, go the fuck away.

"You're just going to leave your little brother and your parents alone?! After all they go through to help you get better?!"

Annoyed, I opened my eyes only to roll them, and then listened to his new approach.

"I can't save you like I did Keiko, but you have a clearing! Just jump!"

I ignored him and stared down at my thighs as I tried drowning out his yelling.

My thighs. They were huge.

Fuck that.

I wasn't going out of this world until I was thin.

I stood up with new found determination, finding the fire to have spread across the sink, giving me enough room to jump through with something to shield me. Whipping my blazer off my head, I lifted my leg on the edge of the sink and held it in front of me, using it as a shield while I lept through the window.

Inviting, sturdy arms caught me, cradling me as they moved away from the window. I had to fight the urge to punch the man who was helping me in the face, forcing myself to consent to his hold. He threw my blazer, which was living up to its name, onto the ground in flames.

A scorching pain flared in my ankle, finding my sock had caught on fire. The fireman set me down while I screamed in pain, and his comrade sprayed me with an extinguisher, having turned from the window to me.

"_Ne-chan_," Minoru's shaking body ran to me, and the fireman held onto me as Minoru clung to me in fright.

I coughed as I put my hand on his head, and I swore I had only black smoke came out. But it was a mystery to be solved another time since smoke whipped around us from the wind, dragging the fumes from the apartment to us.

I leaned over to grasp my little brother, becoming limp from shock as I tried holding onto him. I looked up to the night sky for Urameshi, and he hovered calmly over the crowd of people that accumulated in front of his apartment. Next to him was Botan and another figure, much smaller and younger.

I lifted a shaky arm in the air for Urameshi, giving him a thumbs-up, a question.

And he grinned a warm smile, returning the hand signal before his attention was caught elsewhere by Keiko. He floated off in the distance to accompany her as my mother ran into view.

* * *

**—Minamino.**

As usual, Hojo was the first in the classroom to finish homework she hadn't completed the night before. But I was surprised to find out I was wrong. Instead, she stared at the blackboard in front of her at her desk, arms crossed and hands gripping them tight, and the bandaging on her ankle stuck out like a sore thumb. But one thing was the same, her face was still adorned with make-up. She'd taken the time this morning despite what had happened yesterday.

I remembered my mother's request before she left this morning as I approached her.

"Hojo," I nodded at her, and light brown irises flickered up to meet mine.

"Minamino," she nodded and turned back to the empty blackboard.

"How are you today?" I was wondering if she'd give her usual 'super suicidal' answer, as that was her answer four out of five times when asked.

"I'm going to head-butt someone," her eyes narrowed as she stared at the blackboard in front of her. "Don't be that person."

I smiled down at her, amused with her new answer. It was a nice change from the usual suicidal answer.

"My mother would like to know if you'd come over tonight for dinner," this was no lie, since my mother had heard about Hojo's incident on the news.

"Thanks, but no."

Strong tone for a girl who was living with her family in their car until they found a new place to live.

I shrugged, making my way to my seat, "As you wish, Hojo."

"Aiko," the same third years waltzed into class, more dramatic than usual. "I saw on the news, and oh my gosh."

"Please, come over tonight for dinner," the girl with curled brown hair seemed to be in a play, unnecessary words emphasized in strange tones. "You can stay in our guest room."

A sly smile grew on Hojo's face, though disappeared as she turned up to the third years, "Sure."

"I'll see you after sixth," the leader of the group strutted out of class with a strange sense of accomplishment.

Hojo watched the door for minutes as I tended to my own work, and soon, she turned back to the blackboard.

"Don't take it personal," my eyes drifted to her back as she continued to stare. "You know why I accepted."

"You're not the type to lie to our peers," I situated my paperwork, setting it in the corner of my desk.

I was surprised she hadn't said anything to the girls about her reasons for hanging out with them, or maybe she had already.

"Exactly why she believes me."

She hadn't.

The two of us watched students pour into the classroom, and all of them avoided Hojo upon seeing the anger on her face. Some even walked across the room to make it to their seat to avoid her.

I didn't expect her to follow through with the threat of violence, but as I exited the main building after sixth hour, I saw her with her group of social elites. One of the young men in the group latched onto her, grabbing her waist, and she shoved him off her. He stumbled into the ebony haired girl and took it as a joke, heading straight for Hojo once more and laughing, wrapping his arms around her.

And as I passed by, with the crowd of other students leaving campus for their own private study sessions or cram schools, I watched as she gripped the young man's uniform collar. She dragged him down and smashed her forehead into his nose, drawing blood. And as he recoiled, she wiped her forehead of his blood and smeared it on his jacket while he clutched his nose.

The girl with curled brown hair, the leader of the pack, cackled loudly as she had watched Hojo's rage unfurl on the young man.

And I was amused again as I thought about her actions while at dinner when my mother set curry rice in front of me.

But I returned to reality and distanced myself from the recent past to pay attention to the dinner the four of us were having. Hatanaka and his son, Shuuichi, were invited over tonight for dinner.

"Shuuichi's having trouble with his math class," Hatanaka's words drew me from the plate of food that color's almost resembled the blood from the young man's nose earlier this afternoon. "Do you think you can help him with it, Shu-kun?"

The curry shouldn't have been this red.

"Depends on the math you're in," I turned to see the dark haired boy who resembled his father, sharing his eyes and the shape of his nose.

"Algebra II right now," he replied, digging into my mother's cooking.

I thought she'd put too much spice in the curry, but neither of the Hatanaka's complained upon tasting the meal. I was sure it tasted fine, but I didn't want to be in the bathroom for the next three hours, so I avoided the curry as I dug in to the plate. My mother was spacing out enough to forget how much spice she was putting into our meals.

She was lucky curry wasn't lethal in moderately high doses.

"Why don't you let him come over after school for a while until he gets the hang of it?" My mother's offer, unfortunately, didn't fall on deaf ears.

"Hey, yeah, what do you think about that, Shuuichi?" Hatanaka nudged his son, who glanced over to me.

Unbeknownst to me until recently, I had been unconsciously intimidating the boy to the point where he wasn't very comfortable around me. That was when Hatanaka first began dating my mother. But now that he and his family earned my silent approval, I'd been trying to make the boy feel more at home around my mother and me.

Though I wanted to make him feel welcomed, I didn't exactly feel like spending my afternoons around the human boy.

"Sure, I really think it'd help, dad," Shuuichi gave a wary smile, unsure of how I'd take his acceptance.

And I returned his smile, feigning a polite atmosphere for the dinner table.

"Shuichi, dear," my mother changed the subject quickly, remembering something. "I forgot, I'm sorry. But why did you say Aiko couldn't make it tonight?"

Ah, the girl with the temper and strange attitude.

"She'd already been offered a place to stay for the night," I lied.

I could argue it wasn't a lie, it was a mere half-truth. Except for the fact that she'd been offered another place to stay after I'd aired my mother's request. But I couldn't bear to tell my mother the truth, because for some reason my mother fawned over that girl as if she was her own daughter. They must have bonded over those months she worked the register at the store.

Besides, I was already dealing with her sickness, I didn't need to deal with Hojo upsetting my mother's emotions, hurting her feelings.

"Oh, that's right," my mother nodded and stood up, taking her empty plate and Shuuichi's with her to the counter.

"Who's Aiko?" Hatanaka asked.

"This little girl from the grocery store I shop at, she has some classes with Shuichi."

"Little" was an understatement. The girl was a skeleton who'd found a sack of skin to put on.

Now I was just being harsh, she had some meat on her bones. Though I should probably never mention that to her for fear of sending her to her death. Or handing myself a broken nose.

"Her house burned down, the poor thing," my mother rambled as I couldn't repress a smirk from remembering what I'd witnessed after sixth hour. "But I'm so glad she has friends who want to help her out."

Luckily, neither of the Hatanaka's had caught my inappropriately timed smirk, both of their attention was turned towards my mother.

"I have cram school Mondays through Wednesdays," I spoke to Shuuichi, who seemed surprised I'd even bothered to initiate a conversation with him.

"W-what time do you get out those days?" He seemed shocked, as if I'd only talk to him with a firearm pointed at my temple.

"Around seven."

"So maybe we should schedule for Thursdays and Fridays?" Hatanaka squeezed his way into the conversation.

"That sounds f—"

The crashing of china and ceramic on the tiled floor turned all our eyes to my collapsed mother. Hatanaka shot out of his seat instantly, replacing what should have been my actions as I sat in my seat, triggered of the day six years ago when plates fell because of me. Even from here I could see the scars on her forearms as she lay sprawled out on the kitchen floor, unconscious. A haunting reminder of the harm I'd caused her after all the deceit.

And her still body pushed me into guilt further as Shuuichi stood up and found the house phone to dial for an ambulance.

I waited next to her in the ambulance as they drove her to the emergency room. Hatanaka and Shuuichi stayed with me well into the night as we waited for my mother to stabilize, having driven from the house to the hospital behind the ambulance.

"She'll be fine," I had to stop Hatanaka's incessant rubbing and clasping of his hands, it was beginning to grate on my nerves.

My tone received me a wary glance from Shuuichi as he sat on the other side of his father.

"You're right, Shu-kun," Hatanaka laughed nervously, clenching his hands together to calm himself. "She'll be fine. She'll wake up and she'll be just fine."

I had no words of consolation for him, and he expected nothing from me as we all sat in silence. The three of us waited out outside the emergency room well into the dark hours of the night, waiting anxiously for a doctor to find the time and answers for our many questions.

And finally, as the clock struck half past one, a doctor strolled down the hallway with his clipboard in hand, and a mug of coffee in the other. We'd lost hope with the other doctors that had walked by, none of them having my mother's diagnosis or condition. But the doctor stepped in front of us, and my heart rate rose with false hope.

"You're here for Minamino, Shiori?" He eyed the three of us before flipping through the clipboard, utilizing the free fingers from the hand he used to hold his addiction. "You're her husband, I assume?"

He eyed Hatanaka, who then turned to the ground and denied, "No, I'm not."

"Then you must be her son?" He turned to Shuuichi, and I wasn't surprised that I'd been overlooked with my drastically different colored hair.

"No, that's him," Shuuichi nodded in my direction, and the doctors eyes followed and set on me.

"I'm her son," I bit my tongue, holding back my aggravation.

"Do you mind them hearing her condition?"

Doctor-patient confidentiality meant slim to nothing at the moment.

"No."

"She has Congestive Heart Failure," His eyes scanned the three of us. "If we had been able to catch this earlier, we could have given her treatments to help prolong her life..."

"But?" Hatanaka's voice caught in his throat.

"It's been left untreated for so long, we won't be able to prolong her survival. It's reached a fatal stage, her heart is failing."

"How long does she have?" I hadn't expected to care about her this much.

"A month, at most."

Our prolonged silence prompted his departure down the hall, leaving us to take in the information and seek him out when we were ready.

But all I could focus on was her death, and what I could possibly do to help her live. I felt personally responsible for her illness, having treated her with such disdain for years. I felt my actions had stressed her, pushed her illness further than it should have.

Of course, that wasn't true, it was merely the guilt speaking. Guilt from my initial treatment towards her, guilt from deceiving her all these years.

In my mind, I ran through thousands of possible cures that could help her from Makai plants, but not a thing came to mind of relieving one permanently of this illness. Not a plant in any realm could save her heart and free her from the illness.

There had to be something I could do for the woman who'd not only given birth to my human form, but had protected me with her own body, her life. There had to be something I could do for my mother.

I would find a way.


	5. Lars & Margo

**"It's just, she's just always trying to hug everybody. You know, some people don't like that. Some people don't like to be hugged … ****It does not feel good. It hurts ... Like a burn. Like when you go outside and your feet freeze and you come back in and then they thaw out? ... It's almost exactly like that."**

**—**

**—Aiko.**

I leaned in towards Urameshi, his eyes closed, lips parted slightly as he slept peacefully. He was in his pajama's, laying in his new room in the apartment his mom bought, still yet to resurrect. I felt I'd been in his room for quite a while, waiting for his mother to knock out.

She'd finally fallen asleep in the living room after a few beers, and it was well into the night. I'd come over earlier to see how his body was doing, if it'd been scorched from the fire a few days ago.

He was unharmed. Keiko was brave enough to risk her life for him, and with her help, they were able to make it out alive.

With his room dark and the only source of light seeping in from the hallway, it was strange to see his skin refulgent. But maybe that's what compelled me to continue leaning in. And as if I wasn't in control of my own body, I pressed my lips against his, wrapping my fingers gently around the back of his neck.

My eyes snapped open and I yelped as I shot up, ramming my neck into the headrest that hovered in front of me.

"Wha—whah happened?" The light from the lamppost outside illuminated my father as he rolled over, frantic and disoriented, in the driver's seat. "Whah's goin'on?"

"Night—" Air burned my throat as I tried breathing, ensuing more coughs. "Mare."

"Okay," my father rolled over again as I tried clearing my throat, holding onto it as reassurance that I'd be fine.

I'd had some scary dreams before, but that one took the cake. What was wrong with me? Maybe it was just Urameshi trying to relay something to me. Hopefully... hopefully not. Ugh, why did I have that disgusting dream?

Like hell I'd kiss his monkey ass.

"I'm getting some fresh air," I reached above me and opened the door, and slid out from underneath the two reclined seats. "I'll be back."

My father grunted in acknowledgement as he fell asleep, and I crawled out from the backseat onto the cool pavement, feeling the rough chill of the concrete on my palms. Closing the door, I reached into my new pajama pants pockets (pants Natsume had given me) upon standing up, pulling out a pack of cigarettes to curb my appetite.

My father slept in the driver's seat, my mother in the passenger, and I sprawled out in the cramped back while my little brother slept at a friend's house. That way Minoru could go with his friend to school and leave my mother those few extra minutes to scout for apartments on her way to work.

God, I'd seriously need to find a way to repress that nightmare. He was a friend, that dream was_ too_ awkward. Whatever, it was just a dream, and dreams didn't mean anything but an overactive imagination.

I wandered around the streets of the suburban neighborhood we'd parked in, exhaling into the night air. The cloud of smoke dispersed into strange forms, a vaporous haze, and disintegrated into the air, mixing into my oxygen.

It'd been a few days since the fire.

Turned out it was an arsonist that they've yet to catch. If I was on the force, I'd hunt that filth down with all my energy and worth. He wouldn't last long with me on the force. Besides, Urameshi said he saw the guy throwing the makeshift wanna-be Molotov cocktail into his apartment and the one next to it. If I had legal authority, I'd abuse my power and castrate that fucker.

God, what I'd give to wrap my hands around that sick fucker's neck.

He got a kick off that fire, one of power and control. I was sure he exerted that desire elsewhere in his life in different ways, too, seeing as how arson had a direct correlation to rape. Those who committed arson were just as likely to exert that same desire for power in another, disgusting, sexual way.

Filth.

I wish I was on the force.

Anger swelled in my chest, and I tried keeping myself composed in the quiet residential neighborhood where a few solemn houses still had lights on in their bedrooms. But as I neared a lamppost on the sidewalk, I snapped, and began ramming my shin into the hard metal repeatedly, eventually shaking the lamppost. I didn't care that I bruised easily, and that it'd be unsightly—I could cover the bruise with my socks anyways. I'd gotten a new pair yesterday.

And after my fit of rage was released, despite still feeling the anger and hatred for the arsonist that hadn't thought twice about what family's place he was burning down, I leaned against the post and steadied my breathing. I needed a physical outlet for my rage, but no matter what I did, it was never enough. I always had anger pent up, for much too long. Leg shaking from pain, going numb, I forced myself to continue my walk and walk steady, without a limp.

The anger was just going to return, it was going to build up until they found that road sucking scum.

I inhaled warm air and continued walking, trying to relish in the nice weather that came with the famous, warm summer night. If only there was a season that had this weather to replace summer or spring. And as I stared up at the empty sky, an open second story window caught my attention. I looked around the street, realizing this was Minamino's street. I hadn't passed his house yet.

I continued walking, feeling strange about looking for his house, but I was curious as to if he was a late or early sleeper. Momma Shiori probably asked him for lights out at ten.

I flicked the ashes on the ground as I continued my walk, finding his house. Blind's closed, no lights on at all—as if they'd gone on vacation. It wasn't summer break yet so they couldn't have left anywhere.

As I turned ahead to continue my walk, a silhouette emerged in the distance. Nervous, knowing I wasn't able to defend myself, I slid against the stereotypical picket fence, into the darkness to stay undetected. But as the two of us closed in on each other, I realized it was Minamino.

"Good evening... Hojo?" He turned towards me, staring me down in the darkness.

For a second I wondered how he'd recognized me without my make-up on and with my newly dyed hair, or even saw me in the darkness. But there was a lamppost not even thirty feet away, and he might have saw me at school yesterday.

I stepped away from the fence, into a more generous lighting.

I was unsure of what he'd think of me, "Hey."

God, I could only hope he didn't think I was stalking him. This was seriously so embarrassing.

"Is there a reason you're waiting outside of my home?" He raised a curious eyebrow.

Dammit. Someone get me a rope so I could hang myself from the lamppost.

"Don't flatter yourself, Momma's boy," I rolled my eyes, placing the cancer stick in my mouth. "I was on a walk. My parents parked around the corner."

Green eyes that usually scanned me for lying or how my mind worked were unamused and tired. I'd be tired too if I was coming home near midnight.

"How's living in your car?" His question was almost sincere, curious, as he continued his walk to the front door.

"Shit. How's your mom?"

He paused as he turned into the walkway, gathering his keys, and I realized _why_ he was coming home near midnight.

"She's in the hospital, isn't she?" I walked up behind him, pausing a few steps behind. "It wasn't my food, was it?"

He turned around, glowering at me as he unlocked the front door.

"Okay, _really_ bad time for a joke," I exhaled smoke. "Sorry."

He stepped aside as he opened the door, letting light spill onto the walkway. He lingered slightly and his silhouette looked over to me on the sidewalk.

"Have you eaten tonight?"

"What do you think?" I flicked the cigarette once more, and watched as he stepped aside in the doorway.

I didn't care much about relapsing as I hadn't been working hard to get better anyways. Actually, I didn't think you could call it relapsing when you didn't try hard.

Same tired stare, distant and ponderous, he was preoccupied with his mother.

He seemed emotionally drained, and for some reason I actually gave a crap, "Have _you_ eaten?"

Maybe it was all the stuff Shiori told me about him, all the conversations we had where she directed attention onto her beloved son. He was upset over her, worried. The least I could do was… something.

"I haven't had the time," I walked up to the front door and dropped the cigarette to the ground on the porch, grinding it with the heel of my slipper.

Though I didn't think he wanted me here, I felt some sort of responsibility to take initiative. So I invited myself inside. He didn't seem to mind—maybe he didn't want to deal with thinking up insults—and he closed the door behind me as I entered.

"You have any instant noodles or something?" I left the rest of that line unspoken, leaving the insensitive my-shit-cooking's-what-landed-your-mom-in-the-hosp ital jokes at the door.

"My mother keeps clear from as much processed food as possible," he answered, taking off his school jacket and hanging it up on the coat rack.

"I don't think I need to remind you of how I can't cook," he walked past me as I looked up at him, and I followed him into the kitchen. "Eh, we'll think of something."

Opening the pantry, I looked around for something easy to make and scanned the ingredients.

"You want to take a stab at miso soup again?" I peered over my shoulder, finding the red head washing his hands in the sink, sleeves from his uniform blouse rolled up to his elbows.

"Will you even bother eating the food?" He met my gaze.

The miso soup itself, one cup worth, was eighty-four calories. The amount of carrots were three, onions were ten, spinach was seven, miso was twenty-four, chicken stock was twenty-seven... not counting the other spices and calories in every other minor ingredient.

God, I didn't want to, I was going to spend the next two days combating self-loathing for even bothering to eat this garbage. But if it was soup I could just piss it out and drink all the sodium away... avoid the tofu, vegetables, and meat.

And I had a feeling he wouldn't bother with food if I didn't push him to make something.

"Yes," I accepted his challenge, sucking it up and readying myself for the plethora of negative emotions to come. "Get out the ingredients."

* * *

**—Minamino.**

I guess I had let her inside without a fight or insult because I was desperate for anything to take my mind off my mother and a way to save her. The thoughts had been plaguing me since the night of her diagnosis, and I was willing to let anything or one take my mind off her, even Hojo.

Her peculiar white hair had been dyed again to a more natural brown color, though it faded into an unnecessary blonde half way through, an ombre. At least it brought out the brown in her eyes, making them darker, letting her seem like the native of Japan that she was.

Our second attempt at the soup was bearable, even with Hojo taking charge of the soup once again; she made sure to keep the liquid from simmering. While she hovered over the granite counter, next to the stove, I tidied the kitchen as she prepared our food to make cleaning up swifter.

Though it was close to midnight, she didn't seem worried about her parent's curiosity in where she may be.

Soon, she set my serving in front of me on the granite counter and made her way out back, walking through the living room. The open backdoor let in a warm breeze, and she sat alone on the lawn chairs of the backyard patio set, looking out into the looming darkness in the distance of the backyard.

I waited, watching her from the window before trying my own serving. And after lighting a cigarette, she took a sip from her bowl, only to shiver and gag in response.

I tried my own serving, figuring it may just be her destroyed taste buds, but her gagging was rightfully expressed as the soup was disgusting once again.

The sliding door opened again, and her demand was simple, "I don't see anyone else out here keeping me company."

"If you weren't addicted to cigarettes then you wouldn't be out there alone," I glanced at her, and light brown irises rolled in her eyes.

"Shut up and get out here," she turned around and made her way back to her seat, facing the darkness that loomed in the backyard. "Please."

It was strange that she thought such a command would be deemed acceptable just from adding a "please" at the end. But I stepped outside, sitting beside her to stare out at the dim view of the wooden fence. The light pouring through the kitchen window a few feet away was scarce, giving us a small dome of light in abrupt darkness.

Settling myself, I accepted my fate of spending time with the girl, willing to take my mind off my mother. Even if it meant sitting with someone who often had an unpleasant attitude.

"Is she going to be okay?" She held the bowl of soup like a cup of tea as she curled up on the chair.

She could have just set her bowl on the glass table in front of us.

"Possibly not."

My mother's health was deteriorating by the second; her consciousness would often drift away. Her body being sent into critical condition only hours ago was proving my fear that she wouldn't live much longer. I hazard to guess she wouldn't live more than a few weeks, less than a month.

"Damn," she took a sip from the soup, bringing it up to her mouth to drink like a cup. She quickly set it down when she'd realized how insensitive she'd sounded, "Sorry, not really good at being comforting or reassuring."

"You should avoid talking about her, then."

"Can't help it," she picked around the soup for the tofu with her spoon. "Even though I only talked to her when I was bagging her groceries, she's really nice. I don't want her to die."

Her last sentence sent an uneasy shift throughout my body. Her stare burned into my neck, realizing she shouldn't bother anymore, and she turned back to her serving. She didn't always have a bad attitude.

There had to be a way to help my mother, after all she'd done for me I'd be selfish not to try in her time of need. After all the care she'd given me, I felt the need to return the favor to someone so selfless.

It was truly strange how I could hold emotions like this for someone, but I guess I'd always considered her my mother. Someone who'd given me unconditional love, regardless of how I had treated her.

I had been searching my own memory for any plant that could help her, any concoction or vile I could make to keep her heart alive and working properly. But nothing would work.

I would have to use something else.

"How is your family?" I turned to Hojo, who was quickly downing the soup, chugging it while holding her breath to keep from tasting the horrid flavor.

"What do you mean? We're in complete shit," She coughed, sticking her tongue out in disgust.

"Because of the fire, is everyone okay?" I turned to my own serving, digging out the vegetables and tofu to eat on their own and avoid the liquid.

"My little brother, Minoru, is staying at a friend's house to make room for us in the car," she shrugged. "He was the only one at home when the fire started, and he only got a small burn on his elbow."

I remembered the bandage on her ankle a few days ago.

"The bandage on your ankle," I nodded to her feet and she set the bowl down on the table to lift up her pants leg.

"I'm letting it air out," she replied, showing me the large blister and waxed skin next to it that wrapped around her ankle and crawled up a few inches on her shin. Above the burn, her skin was beginning to discolor to a bruise, turning yellow and purple, "They say to keep it bandaged but it itches and stings a lot. At least with the bandage off I can itch around it."

I was tempted to offer her help. I could make a paste or cream from Makai plants, or create a sort of embrocation for her to speed the healing for her, though the scarring would be unavoidable.

She set the pants leg down over her ankle again and grabbed the bowl from the table, and I changed the subject before I offered any help. I didn't have time to bother with her problems; I had one of my own. I'd stick to lighter questions to lift the atmosphere.

"Have you found a new place to live?"

"No. Not sure if we'll find any with a good price range."

"What do your parents work for again?" Surely her parents could afford something, apartments weren't luxury items.

"Dad's in construction, mom washes dishes and cleans at this one restaurant," she placed the cigarette between her lips again, inhaling. "That's what you get for only completing junior high. If it wasn't for my tuition and counseling, we'd be fine. But down payments are rough."

Her self-perception issues weren't the only reason why her actions were often dangerous enough to prompt a call to social services.

"It's good you were there to find your brother in time," I changed the subject once more, but soon realized that no matter what direction we took, our conversations wouldn't lighten.

Especially not with her honesty. I knew it wasn't for pity, because she rejected any sort of sympathy thrown her way. She just couldn't help but say what she thought.

"The brat was crying the whole way outside, whining for his blanket," she looked down at the smoke that she exhaled through her nostrils. "Made me have to shove him out of the door before part of the roof collapsed, locking me inside."

She was lucky enough to have survived with just the burn on her ankle, "You're alive."

"Yeah, because firemen came in time."

She turned away from me, viewing the night sky above us, as if she was searching for someone. And I returned to my thoughts.

If there were no plants that I could control and no vile I could create to save her, there had to be an item. The Makai had many treasures that held supernatural powers, I'd come across my fair share over the thousands of years I'd lived. My eyes drifted to Hojo as she turned around in her chair, looking at her unnecessary extra coloring in her hair, in the faint reflection of the darkened backdoor. She sparked my epiphany.

The Ankokukyō.

The mirror of darkness would be able to save my mother.

But its price in fulfilling wishes was drastic. Would it be a waste to use it on her, leave her without me?

"And because I didn't want to die," Hojo's voice drew me from my thoughts. "I wasn't about to fuck out of the world just yet. I jumped through the window."

Her eyes flickered towards me, and I realized I should direct a call to social services, "I wasn't going to let them put me in the ground until I was thin."

Ironically, I was speaking to a skeleton, but I held my tongue. My eyes drifted to her purple pants from lack of a tame response.

"They're Natsume's," she tugged on the pants after following my eyes. "Got'em from the bitch the other night. She also took me to the salon to get my hair dyed again. Of course, I had to pick something expensive and get my money's worth, so I picked an ombre. Appearances matter, you know."

"So do you ask for things, or does she just hand out pity gifts?"

She laughed, making it aware she wasn't ashamed in leeching off the wealthier upperclassmen.

"She hands out what _you_ want to call pity gifts," She moved the chair to face me, getting up to adjust it, and sat down again to curl up on the chair. "I don't have to _ask_ for anything."

But even she had her pride, as she denied help from my mother. Seemed the only time she'd allow help is to suck the person she disliked for all their worth.

"Fuck, man," she shook her head with a disappointed smile. "We can't find a damn good, positive conversation to talk about. Our lives are such a mess right now. At least we're both attractive. That makes up for it, right?"

I couldn't help but smirk at her, "You've found the most trivial, useless thing to be proud about in our current situations."

"It's _all_ that matters," she grinned and quickly stuck the cigarette in her mouth. "Actually there is something good we can talk about. I have a nice story."

Interested, I set my feet upon the railing underneath the table as I folded my hands in my lap, "Let's hear it."

This was strange, amusing, since the two of us never talked much, let alone took time to understand each other subconsciously. Though I wouldn't care any other day, tonight I welcomed distractions.

"No, you gotta promise to find a good story to tell afterwards," she shook her head as she took the cigarette out of her mouth again, only to wag it in the air like a nagging mother with a reprimanding finger. "Promise."

"If you go first, I'll tell you something I remember."

"Alright," she snickered, placing the empty bowl on the table. "You know of that famous British band? The Beatles?"

I nodded, "I've heard of them."

"Okay, so," she was already snickering, holding back laughter. To be honest, her mood and determination to change the atmosphere was helping, I had to rid myself of the smile that was growing on me. "My dad would suck all their dicks if he could, let's put it that way. He loves them. He went to their concert a couple decades back when they were on some world tour."

"Your father likes English music?" Not uncommon in Japan, but I hadn't met people who would say their favorite band was English.

"Yeah, oh my _god_, so when he was in junior high he had this nasty pompadour, 1950's American greaser style going on," she scoffed. "God, it was horrendous. I wish I could show you a picture, you'd think he would have had a tattoo on his neck or something."

I cleared my throat as I swallowed a spoonful, holding back a laugh from her prodding at her own father.

"Anyways, you know how my mom's deaf, right?" She burst out laughing, throwing her head back as I composed myself and set the bowl down. "So he writes her their lyrics in Japanese after buying their vinyl. Like my mom actually bothers listening to music or checking up on artists, she's deaf! So he writes the lyrics to _I Want To Hold Your Hand_ for her, but forgot to tell her they were lyrics that made him think of her. By the time he remembered, it was too late, and she thought it was a love letter he wrote. He couldn't tell her otherwise for fear of embarrassment."

I could already tell where she was going with this, "So she finds out and gets mad."

"God, you're such a kill joy," she rolled her eyes at me. "Actually, not necessarily. Let me finish, rude ass."

I shrugged, picking up a fallen leaf that'd flown onto the table as she continued, "So he plays that shit in the car all the time after he buys their tapes. Favorite band. Mom can't hear it. One day when I'm like eight, she pulls out these letters and tells me—"

She stopped and shoved the cigarette in her mouth so she could sign to me, translating her mothers words, "_Aiko, look at the love letters your father used to send me_. And I read over the lyrics, picking out familiar phrases. And I said, _Mom, this is from The Beatles. They're lyrics from I Want To Hold Your Hand. _And she just stared at me before leaving the room to tear my father a new asshole. He hasn't let me listen to his tapes since. If I even mention the Beatles, he tears me a fourth hole down there."

She leaned over the arm of the chair, laughing, smoke clouding her face. And though I personally didn't find it amusing, I found her reassuring. And I found myself laughing, albeit softer than her.

"Your turn," her face was flushed, having found her own story pure comedy gold.

And, tongue in cheek, I pondered on what story from my human life would give her the relief she'd, though barely, given me. I needed to find something in her taste.

"When my father was alive, when I was younger," light brown eyes glued onto me in interest, eager for something happy. "The three of us went to the mall as a family, and he held a much more humorous side to him than my mother. That's probably what drew her to him."

"He had red hair, just like you?"

I nodded in response, "It was a bit darker."

She nodded, intrigued, and waved her hand for me to continue, "He was also extremely clumsy, that's probably why he was able to laugh so much. He laughed away his problems."

"That's a nice way to deal with things," she mumbled in envy.

"He was playful, always wrapping his arms around my mother to embrace her. But her waist was sensitive, ticklish."

She grinned, her strange mind only working ways to figure out how this memory would end.

"He let me run off to play at the children's jungle structure," the structure that was bland and hadn't entertained me in the slightest.

I'd spent more time observing the ways human children acted around each other, though the physical perks of the structure was good enough only to help me get used to the different, weaker body I was in. Luckily, when I turned ten, I had fully accustomed to this body.

"And they sat at the fountain, watching me from a distance. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pinched slightly, and she jumped in surprise. She dragged him backwards while trying to steady herself, and the two of them fell into the fountain water behind them."

Hojo's laughter spluttered through her lips, resembling a bodily function junior high kids laughed at.

"Oh god, poor Shiori," she chortled, throwing her head back again in laughter, and when she composed herself, she snickered into her hand. "Was she the same?"

"Same as when?"

"When she was in junior high."

I inhaled, thinking to what little I knew about my mother's past, "I don't know much, but from what she's told me, the pictures I've seen... she's always been the same."

"Seems like it," she watched as I moved the frail leaf through my fingers, not breaking the decaying plant. "Seems she's always been like a mother. Sometimes you're just born to be something."

And though the memory and conversation was of my mother, it was calming to think of her in a way that wasn't anticipation of her death. Sadly, the relief was ephemeral.

Though I was grateful for Hojo's determination to bring up good memories of our families in hard times, the thoughts of her death and the reality that I may have to trade my life for her own loomed over me, effectively disintegrating my revived mood.

Would she be fine without me?

"God, you know what Minoru said to me when I woke him up to get him out of the apartment?" She snickered, having seen my mood drop. "He asked me why the apartment smelled like my cooking."

I bit the inside of my lower lip to keep myself from laughing at her.

"God, the kid's like five and he laid the smack-down on me!" She threw her hands up, acting as petulant as her little brother.

She eyed me as I bit my thumb to hold back my laughter, and I stopped instantly.

She laid her head in her hand as she watched me compose myself, and I realized there was more to her than the girl that had a short temper and obsessed over her weight.

"C'mon," she stood up, scooting the chair away from her with her thighs as she ground her cigarette in the ground. "Let's go clean up the kitchen so I can get out of your hair."

I suspected her to offer herself a position as we entered the kitchen to clean, but instead, she laid down rules.

"I'm not washing dishes, let's get that straight right now," she shoved her index finger in the air to emphasize her point.

"Your mother washes dishes, you should be good at it," I prodded.

"Like hell I'm washing dishes. That's fucking disgusting, touching what others ate off," she picked up a rag from the drawer. "I'll wipe the kitchen down. Rinse out the dishes and load the dishwasher."

I shrugged, not bothered in the slightest as I'd already prepped the cleaning earlier while we cooked, "As you wish, Hojo."

And as we worked together to tidy the kitchen, I watched her wipe the counters down and the cutting boards. I noticed her hair.

Having had her apartment burn down, crashing in the car more often than at a friend's, her hygiene was suffering slightly. She was relying on other's showers, and now that I thought about it, when I went to school lately, she kept her hair piled on her head, and she showed up late in first period every so often.

Probably having cleaned herself in the girl's restroom on days she wasn't able to crash at someone's place.

"You can use our shower before you leave, if you want," my offer brought her eyes to mine.

"Damn," her upper lip twitched. "I look that bad?"

"No, I'm only assuming."

She finished wiping down the cutting board and moved next to me in the sink to rinse out the rag.

"Second door on the left, upstairs," I didn't feel the need to escort her or show her anything, as all the necessities were in the restroom. "While you're up there, I'll find a cream for your burn."

Light brown eyes narrowed, studying me, wondering about my sudden change of heart towards her.

And her stare caught me by surprise, as I wondered why I'd offered anything to her at all. I figured since she was here, willing to aid me while I was distraught, the least I could do was offer her a warm shower and create a simple cream to speed up her healing.

Though, in honesty, I could wonder the same about her. Why the sudden change of heart towards me?

"You don't need to take the offer if you don't feel comfortable," I turned back to the sink, washing her bowl, seeing her through my peripheral vision.

But she disappeared to make her way upstairs, knowing she wouldn't find another opportunity to use a shower for a while. I watched as she mosied along the hallway, finding her way to the stairs, and I returned my attention to the sink.

The empty atmosphere only drew me back to my original thoughts.

The Ankokukyō was held in the Reikai's vault, heavily guarded. As if that'd be a problem. I'd never failed thieving an important item, one of wealth or power. This would be no different. Though having not stolen anything of value in fifteen years, having been confined in this body and being lowered from an A-class demon, I would need help.

Hiei would be interested, as there was more than just the mirror locked away in the vault. He wouldn't accompany me if there was nothing for him to profit from. He would be able to find a treasure worth his time, which was helpful in gaining his assistance.

Though his taunting of my reason to take the mirror was something I'd rather not bother with... but I didn't need to tell him why I was interested in stealing it.

Hiei would help me, and I'd be able to find him nearby in the town somewhere.

But before I could bother seeking him out to accompany me, I ought to reconsider once more the situation since the Ankokukyō would take my life upon granting my wish.

I wouldn't live to see her better. Was it even worth it?

It wouldn't seem to be the death I'd figured others would think of Kurama—giving his life for a human woman, one he had no sexual relations with on top of that. I couldn't blame lust on my actions, which would be at least pardonable by demons. Was this a fitting death for me? After I'd worked so hard in the Makai for the status I held?

As I set the bowl down in the sink, hearing the water from the faucet pour next to it... it was. She was worth the risk, she'd risked her life for me. I could do the same for her.

And she would be fine without me... She had Hatanaka, she'd be fine without me.

She'd move on soon, her mourning wouldn't last long.

"Minamino," I turned around, finding Hojo near the kitchen entrance with a towel wrapped around her. "How do you work this shower? I don't want to break anything."

I walked past her, guiding her to the restroom. Upon entering, I noticed the scale next to the shower entrance, and though there were no physical traces of her stepping on it, I knew she'd used it.

"Well?" Her tap on my shoulder dragged my attention from her eating disorder, and I continued towards the shower, showing her the small lever perched atop the faucet.

My mother would be fine without me, she'd soon be happy, healthy.

"You pull," I demonstrated the action as the water poured from the shower head above.

"Oh," she watched the water pouring behind me in the tub. "Mine was a switch."

I walked out of the bathroom, ready to return to my thoughts and create her cream, but an amusing tidbit came from her as I closed the door.

"You always think you're smart until you try to use someone else's shower."


	6. The Dynamo of Volition

**—Aiko.**

"Well, I'll be damned," I exhaled smoke into Urameshi's face; my fingers followed slowly and traced his cheekbone, though I was still in disbelief. "You really came back to life."

"Yeah, no thanks to you," he coughed and shoved his face close to mine, voice raised slightly for us to hear each other in the crowded sidewalk.

"What was I supposed to do?" I moved the cigarette up to his cheek, and he slunk back quickly. "And get out of my face."

"I told you how in that dream!"

"Ew, so you really wanted me to _kiss you_?" I flicked the cigarette before putting it up to my tongue, pretending to gag. "Gross, like hell I would've kissed your monkey-lookin' ass."

"It wasn't kissing; it was mouth-to-mouth, blowing life into my body."

"Good thing I left that to your girlfriend."

"Keiko's not my girlfriend," Urameshi's face turned a slight shade redder, and my smile twisted mischievously.

"I never said _Keiko_. But I love that she's the first to come to mind. I'm sure she'd love that, too."

"Look—"

I tuned out his mini-rant of how Keiko wasn't his girlfriend, and how he'd been trying to ditch her since kindergarten.

Yeah, Urameshi, that's why you saved her life from the fire. Totally trying to ditch her. Not like you always find a roundabout way to think of her when shit hits the fan, hoping she's safe.

"Seriously, all she does is nag. You have no idea how annoying she can get."

"Spare me, Urameshi. You stalked her for like a month while you were dead."

"Shut up—" I tuned him out again as he worked himself up trying to prove me wrong.

After picking up Minoru from school today, I decided to drop him off at the arcade for a few minutes before taking him to his friend's house. I'd found Urameshi at the arcade by coincidence. Obviously, Urameshi hadn't gone to school today. He'd probably been in the arcade all morning, and he was dressed casually with an ugly green jacket over a flannel, over a white tee.

God, I had every thought to call the fashion police on him and have him arrested.

"I bet I look crazy, talking to nobody," I cut him off mid-complaining.

And to be honest, I felt I was a bit crazy, as nobody else seemed to acknowledge the two of us.

"How many times do I have to tell you, I'm alive—" I shoved Urameshi's shoulder, pushing him into a passerby, and watched a verbal argument ensue.

"Watch where you're going, punk!" The passerby seethed at Urameshi.

"Blow it out your ass, old man!"

"Well, goddamn!" I laughed as Urameshi and the older man spouted insults back and forth, but Urameshi's domineering posture sent the guy away quickly. That was all the confirmation I needed, "You really came back, that's some crazy shit."

"You're a piece of work," he grumbled.

"I know, I'm fabulous," I chortled, forcing the laugh to see his face drag down with annoyance.

"I'm kind of wishing I didn't recognize you with your new hair," he tried keeping his grumbling up, but we all knew he wasn't mad anymore. "At least now you don't look like an old lady."

Oh, really?

I shoved him again, pushing him into another passerby to watch the previous scene unfold once more.

"Watch it, man!"

"You gonna do anything about it?" Urameshi snapped, sending the guy away.

"Keep picking fights and you're going to end up dead, and all that work to come back would be for nothing."

"I already told you," he sized up to me, making himself seem just as intimidating as when he dealt with the other men. "I won't die from a fight."

He didn't faze me in the slightest because I knew he wouldn't do anything, "One of these days you will, and when you do, I'm ordering your cremation."

"You wouldn't," he smirked, but his voice held a twinge of disbelief.

"Try me," he shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down at me with a knowing grin that I wouldn't order the cremation, and I changed the subject. "Explain it to me, be honest. How'd you really get to come back? That egg hatched, what even was that? What came out of it?"

"Well, no," he rubbed the back of his head and looked around as if to get out of explaining. "That egg was what saved Keiko and my body from the fire, I threw it in the fire so it never hatched. That was originally how I was going to come back. Speaking of, how's your family and your burn?"

I wasn't going to let him change the subject, so I answered quickly, "We're fine, still looking for an apartment. And a friend of mine made this weird cream for me, it's been healing fast."

"Weird cream?"

"Yeah it feels weird," that was an understatement, the cream had a strange emotionally evocative feeling and texture, something was _off_ with the cream.

Urameshi shrugged it off and nodded towards me after looking behind me at the arcade, "Your parents find a place to live yet?"

"Nah, my mom said something about an apartment close to the train station, though."

"You can crash at my place tonight, if you want."

Aw, the big lug and his heart of gold.

"Thanks but I've already got a place to crash tonight. I'm going to have a girl's night with my friend Kitajima," I jokingly flipped my hair. "Besides, I'm willing to bet like, 300 yen that your mom would make jokes about us fucking."

He grimaced, feigning a grin as he rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, you're right; she'd make snarky remarks all night and say I was cheating on Keiko."

For some reason, in the middle of his sentence, I remembered I was trying to keep the previous conversation about his revival on track. He'd successfully distracted me.

"S—"

Nope, not getting out of this one, Urameshi. I was going to corner him into explaining this whole revival deal to me.

"So how'd you get to come back if the egg was used in the fire?"

Eyes widened in surprise at the change of the subject, as if his mind was backtracking to remember, "I told you, in the dream, blowing life into my body—"

The watch on his wrist began beeping, and I wondered why he had an alarm.

What'd he have to do that was so important? Hit up another arcade and bully little kids out of their allowance?

"What's that?"

Chocolate eyes darted around the crowded street, searching for someone.

Something was definitely up.

I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, drawing attention back to me, "What's going on?"

"I'll explain later!" He shoved past me, shoulder pushing me out of his way to follow someone else in the crowd.

Irritated, I stepped aside and watched his figure blend into the crowd of people. I was tempted to follow him, but…

"_Ne-chan_!" I looked over my shoulder, finding Minoru running out of the nearby arcade, holding a large stuffed animal. "Look at what I won!"

"That's great," I jabbed the cancer stick in my mouth and looked down at the large gorilla he'd won. "Good job."

Wide, doe-like brown eyes looked up at me as I exhaled smoke.

"What'd I tell you about me smoking?" I waited patiently for his answer as I looked at the quality of the gorilla.

For only giving him a couple hundred Yen he'd won something of fairly decent quality.

"That it's really bad and I'm not allowed to do it ever," he answered, hiking the gorilla up closer to his face.

"And?"

"And if I tell mom or dad you'll give me a really big wedgie so I can't walk good anymore."

"That's right," I cooed and held out my hand for him to take. His fingers wrapped around my palm, unable to hold my whole hand, "Let's get you to Shinji's."

"Where's big brother Yusuke? I wanted to show him what I won."

"Urameshi had to go somewhere; he had stuff to do."

"What did he have to do?"

"Things," I replied. "Stuff."

"Oh..."

I felt bad, but the boy needed to learn young that disappointment was a huge part of life.

"How much longer until we get our own home?" I glanced down to the doe-eyed boy who spoke up minutes later.

He honestly missed his family. I didn't blame him; we didn't have time to spend with him while we were all trying to manage finding a suitable, affordable apartment.

It'd be easier for us all if I just dropped out; we'd be fine if it wasn't for tuition payment plans.

"Just a while longer," I gently wrapped my fingers around his palm, squeezing slightly.

But his weight dropped, jerking my body with him as he fell to the ground. His body hung limp in my hand, and his weight was to heavy for me to hold onto for long.

"Minoru?" I lay him down as gently as I could in a panicked state and dropped next to his motionless body to the ground. He laid wide-eyed, mouth agape, lifeless. "Minoru? Now's not the time to fuck around, seriously…"

A polished, white glow emerged from his mouth, floating out of his body and into the air.

"Minoru?!" I shook his shoulders, watching his eyes roll into the back of his head as people crowded around us. "Minoru, wake up!"

My eyes darted back and forth between Minoru's paled face and the limpid mass that floated in the air above him.

"Somebody call an ambulance," someone's voice echoed in my ears, in one and out the other.

Sounds dulled, talking faded around me, turning into incessant buzzing.

"Minoru, wake the fuck up!" I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from my little brother, from shaking him.

Rage ensued, and I sent my elbow back, swinging, and they backed away.

The crowd surrounded us as people called for an ambulance, but sounds drowned out, tunnel hearing, nothing but a ringing in my ears.

I watched the small, glowing entity drift into the distance.

* * *

**—Minamino.**

The mirror's powers were at its peak during the full moon, all I had to do was wait until then. A week was all I needed, and my mother wouldn't last for more than two at most, so I couldn't put this off.

I wouldn't have time to put this off.

She was the lowest on the heart transplant list. Though even with her heart failing, she wouldn't last long enough to survive even when given a better number on the list. She would die before they could find a suitable donor for her, someone who was a perfect match that wouldn't cause her body to reject the most important organ.

The sliding door opened, and the familiar smell of cigarettes and cucumber melon spilled into the room. Hojo seemed to have tunnel vision as she maneuvered around the desks, finding her seat. I noticed something seemed off about her, it wasn't her hair being pulled into a tight bun as it normally was when she was lazy or hung over, it was her shirt.

It wasn't the school uniform's blouse.

I was about to greet her as I normally would, but I noticed the strange way her eyes darted about as she sat down, taking in the pattern of the wooden desk. Jaw clenched, she clasped her hands tight enough to force her fingers pink and knuckles white.

It was a wonder if she'd snap or break down, but she wasn't my concern.

Despite our growth to an awkward position between acquaintances and friends, my mother took priority over her. That meant I'd have to focus on keeping the artifacts in my grasp. I'd have to worry about the new Reikai Tantei and the two demons I'd conspired with the other night, not her.

After my departure last night from Gōki and Hiei, I may have to worry about their reappearance. They may find me to retrieve the mirror despite it serving no use to either of them.

Gōki may attempt to take it out of greed, but he was no threat to me. Hiei, on the other hand, was vengeful, but I couldn't see him caring enough to hunt me down for a treasure that was useless to him.

The sword he'd obtained would preoccupy him until his needs were met.

"Minamino."

"Here," I had momentarily forgotten my existence as a human.

Strange, after just a day of thieving and involving myself with demons... I had become almost completely drawn back into my true nature. It was as if I'd been reminded of my true self.

The teacher continued his role call down the roster, and our lesson plan began.

I could make it to the end of the week, during the full moon. My only true obstacle would be avoiding the new Reikai Tantei. After all, I would be returning the mirror; I only needed my time with it.

"Hojo, start at the end of the page."

I couldn't help but turn my attention to the frigid girl, wondering how she'd react from her previous behavior.

No response.

A girl that sat behind her tapped her shoulder, and Hojo stood up, book in hand. She began reading the text aloud in English with a rigid, choppy voice, pausing every so often as if to stop herself from speaking aloud whatever was on her mind.

Some of the kids in class would suspect she wasn't able to read English well, though she'd done fine before. This wasn't the first time she'd been called upon to read Shakespeare.

"Hojo," The teacher interrupted her, and Hojo's eyes—that were still caked with make-up, surprisingly—twitched with rage. "That's not our school's blouse."

The main difference was the shape of the cuffs and collar.

"It's just for today."

"Go home and change."

"My apartment burned down," The sentence was left unfinished, but the rest was common sense.

What clothing did she have, really? She probably had to wash her uniform every night at a laundromat.

"Go to the Dean's office, or find a place to change," Our teacher seemed to lack the common sense, forcing Hojo's incredulous expression, jaw gaping.

"My apartment burned down, you fat sack of shit," Hojo's venom laced words prompted an eruption of giggles and gasps throughout the class.

"Go to the Dean's office!"

I'd only held this class for a few months, though I'd never heard our teacher's voice raise with anger.

"Suck me," Hojo picked up her satchel and weaved her way through the desks, needing to approach the teacher in order to exit the classroom.

The teacher stepped in front of her in order to confront her verbally, but she slipped past him, "No, don't even touch me. You might fucking eat me."

I personally found it amusing how she projected her insecurities onto others.

The slamming of our classroom door settled the laughter in the classroom, and our lesson returned quickly after our teacher composed himself.

"Sawada, pick up where she left off."

Though I felt concern for the girl, I quickly reminded myself of my own problems.

Whether or not I'd have to worry about keeping possession of the mirror.

The Reikai Tantei seemed fairly aloof yesterday; I may be able to persuade him into letting me keep the mirror until the full moon. Either he was confident in his abilities or he was a new recruit and had no idea what he was up against. Either way, perhaps introducing him to my situation and mother would convince him to let me keep the mirror.

The result of that all depended on how compassionate he was.

He seemed to genuinely care for the souls Gōki had taken. He may not have been just following orders when he'd heard of that.

Maybe he felt inclined to help. If so, then I would be able to keep the mirror.

Still, I should watch myself for now, take caution. I hadn't stayed yesterday to see what the Reikai Tantei was capable of.

Though I think I'm safe for now, he'd approached Gōki as the brute was his first encounter. He was occupied with him from then on, and if he fails with Gōki then I won't have to worry at all.

I would have to wait and see, then. If he was formidable enough to defeat Gōki, despite Gōki being low-class, then it proved he could pose a threat. After all, I'd dropped many classes from being forced into this body.

Soon, with my thoughts, homeroom ended, and I continued with my human life.

But as I stepped into the hallway, through the window, I caught sight of Hojo near the fence on the north end of campus. She was still and enchanted, as if the fence had her captivated in a riveting conversation.

After her attempt at comfort a few nights ago, I felt I should offer her some in return.

I soon approached her, heading towards the gym that was well across campus on the north east end, and I noticed her arms shaking. I was now aware that I didn't know how she reacted under stress. I assumed she brushed it off with how she acted on a daily basis.

I was probably best leaving her alone to deal with everything and continue on with my day. If she wanted to bother me on her own whim, she could.

"I'm going to drop out," her words stopped me from passing her, and I stood behind her.

But I was curious now, "Over the incident with Suzuki-sense?"

She'd dealt with harsher words and situations from the upperclassmen, I was sure.

No response from her as she stared at the chain link fence, intent on burning the trees and bushes behind it forever into her memory.

"This costs too much."

I remembered her telling me her parents had only finished junior high.

"I'm sure your parents would want you to finish high school," if they didn't want her to be here, I was sure they'd pull her out. "Parents often want their children to be more successful than them."

"I was going to finish high school and college... go through police academy," her voice was cracking, becoming more high-pitched with each syllable. "You know seventy percent of applicants in the academy have a college degree? I was going to be a cop and go into homicide and sex-related crimes. I was going to go into the Criminal Investigation Bureau."

I couldn't fathom the irony in her words, as she constantly smoked and drank while underage and stole items from her own job.

But I held my tongue, as something was obviously wrong with her.

"Fuck this," she gripped the satchel's handle with both hands, and slammed the leather school bag into the chain linked fence repeatedly. She continued bashing the leather into the fence, becoming more violent with each swing, "Goddamn school!"

She'd snapped.

I approached her calmly to take away the satchel, but she turned towards me and threw it, aiming at my face. I ducked slightly, letting the satchel fly over my head, and she came at me full throttle, fists swinging.

I stepped out of the way as she jabbed at my face twice, and realized that people would soon notice her actions. She didn't need any more reprimanding by school officials now, she'd only make things worse.

Catching her wrists, she struggled slightly, trying to pull away from me.

"Let go of me!" I almost felt I should have, with the tears streaming down her face.

But I refused to let go until I was sure she wouldn't attack. If she wanted to cause a scene, it was fine with me, but not in an area where she'd only create more of a problem. She began kicking at me, and avoiding her attacks turned into an almost amusing dance.

"_Stop fucking touching me!_"

And within seconds of continuing to restrain her, she let out a high pitched, bloodcurdling scream. Her screeching pierced my ear drums, causing me surprise. I loosened my grip instantly out of reflex to cover my ears protectively. I'd never heard a human emit such a sound, I only waited for her voice box to fly out her throat.

She retrieved her arms and her screaming continued as she paced around, gripping her hair and threatening to pull it out. She made her way to the chain-link fence and began kicking, but her screams drowned the rattling of metal as she tried ripping her hair from her scalp.

I stepped up behind her and wrapped my hand around her mouth, muffling her screams. We didn't need an awkward confrontation from curious spectators that would soon arrive.

Instantly, when she realized my actions, she began swinging her elbows backwards to aim for my face.

"I'll let go when you stop," I spoke calmly, leaning in to her ear so she could hear me over her muffled screams.

With hitched breathing, the screams stopped and her body stilled. I let go of her, slowly removing my hand from covering her mouth. Black and brown smudges from her make-up had dripped onto my hand, seemingly staining my fingers.

She turned around, face flushed.

"My parents paid the down payment already on an apartment," For having screamed her lungs out, I didn't expect her voice to be smooth enough for her whispering, though it was still hoarse. "It was as if the _minute_ they fucking paid, Minoru dropped unconscious. He won't wake up. He's in the hospital and all these bills are piling up—"

Her hand flew to her face, covering her mouth. The scleras of her eyes were red, though I didn't think she was the person to cry.

"He dropped yesterday, just dropped unconscious. I saw his soul—"

She paused, inhaling sharply, trying to retrieve the words she'd already spoken.

His soul… He'd become one of Gōki's many victims.

Her eyes widened, as if she'd remembered something important, and her shoulder shoved into my chest. Pushing me out of the way, she carried herself towards the front gate.

I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of guilt about her younger brother; a lingering, sinking feeling in my stomach. After all, it was my skills that allowed the artifact to be stolen in the first place. My selfishness had clouded consequences that would come with releasing the other artifacts, into the hands of criminals nonetheless.

I figured since I'd give my life to the mirror, I wouldn't have anything to feel guilty about in the end.


	7. Nightmare

**This is hell, you don't ever have to fight fair. My spirit floats around in the night air… or in your day dreams, that's how death seems.**

**—**

Upon arriving at Sarayashiki Junior High in the late morning, I was completely out of breath. A more reasonable idea would have been to take the train, I would have been here an hour ago.

Fuck trains.

But running here in the warm morning didn't stop me from hunting down a poor student near the main entrance of the building.

My fingers laced around a boy's collar, dragging him towards me from where he previously stood near a shoe rack.

"Where's," my voice was hoarse as I wheezed, still out of breath from the run here. "Urameshi."

"W-w-what—"

"Urameshi, Yusuke," I dragged the boy's face down, closer to mine. "Where—is he?"

The boy was stuttering like he had a speech impediment, so I loosened my grip, feeling a sense of complete domination over this boy.

"Keiko," I changed the name for him. "Brown hair, pig tails."

"Yukimura? She… she doesn't have pig-tails anymore."

"Whatever, take me to her," The boy might as well have pissed his pants as I growled at him.

"I—I have gym with her now!"

"Take me there," I turned him around, sliding the collar beneath my fingers to shove him in front of me like the hostage he was.

We slipped into the hallway and out through the side door, and he lead me to the gym as we received multiple threatened looks, the feeling of insecurity and curiosity from passerby's. I shoved him up to the doors of the gym, and he scrambled inside in search of the girl I'd been avoiding since that night over a month ago.

Minutes passed as I waited outside the gym near the chain link fencing of the school's perimeter, resorting to saliva and the hope of rubbing to fix my disheveled make-up. Soon, as there was no sign of Keiko, I couldn't help but wonder if the boy chickened out on me. If so, I'd have to go in myself and cause a scene. That wouldn't end well.

I was already suspected on campus, plenty of kids had seen me. It'd only be a matter of time before a teacher came to rush me off campus. I eyed the area I waited in, out back near the racetrack, where students from another class were closing in on to start their gym period.

At least I didn't have my blazer, it would have tipped off the teachers. My skirt wasn't noticeable from far away, but when they would get closer...

If only I knew where Urameshi was staying, if only Keiko would show herself so I could ask.

"You're the girl…" I whipped around, finding Keiko emerging from the gym, doors closing slowly behind her.

Keiko's gym uniform reminded me of my Junior High years, but my eyes drifted back to her tilted head.

She eyed me, taking in the change of hair color from when she'd seen me, "You're the girl from that night."

The boy was right. She didn't have pig tails anymore, she'd cut her hair short, almost into a pixie cut. Her hair probably got singed in the fire.

"Yeah, I'm just going to cut to the chase since it's an emergency," she raised a skeptical eyebrow at my words, but I continued anyways. "I need to find Urameshi. I was hoping you'd tell me where he lives."

Her brown eyes were questioning, curious, but most of all, cynical. Of what, though, I was unsure.

"Don't worry," My shoulders found their way upwards, a half-assed attempt at a shrug. "I've been watching him hover over you for over a month; all those times his face turned red when he denied you being his girlfriend were priceless."

God, could I find anything else to talk about with these two without implying they were dating?

"That's not—" She shook her head. "He's not my boyfriend!"

Her face beat red just as his used to, and despite my inner frantic state, I couldn't help but be amused at their secret relationship.

"So, will you tell me?"

Her eyes searched my face, and she sighed as a much taller, ginger haired boy stepped up behind her from seemingly out of nowhere.

"Heard you were being harassed, Keiko," one hand shoved in his pocket, his intimidating features disappeared as he saw me in front of Keiko. "By…a girl?"

"I'm not here to pound her face in, you big lug," I shouldn't be so harsh, he was obviously here to look out for Keiko.

He must have been her white knight while Urameshi was dead or fucking around somewhere he shouldn't be.

But I needed an outlet for my anger, and he was holding up the information I needed.

I was only hoping I wouldn't feel guilty taking my anger out on him with a sharp tone, "Cute tough guy act. What are you? The second toughest punk in Sarayashiki?"

He seemed almost offended, opening his mouth to defend himself, "Hey! I'm—"

"Wait, don't even answer, I don't care. I'm looking for Urameshi, not the second best. Buzz off, you oaf."

He grimaced, voice raising slightly as he mumbled to Keiko, "Geez. With that nasty attitude, I'm not surprised she hangs out with Urameshi."

"The apartment complex on Twentieth," Keiko's answer dragged my eyes from the tall thug back down to her. "Room 512."

Even her body-guard seemed surprised that she'd given me his address.

"Thank you," I turned on my heels, ready to sprint across town, but her voice took hold of me briefly.

"Wait! What's your name?"

I peered over my shoulder, anxious to leave and find Urameshi, "Hojo. Hojo, Aiko."

The seconds it took for her to register my name with my face felt like an eternity.

Finally, she composed herself to keep from frowning and furrowing her brows, though she was obviously upset, "Please don't get him into any trouble, Aiko."

I couldn't make any promises with this strange situation. For all I knew, with his strange actions yesterday, he was already in trouble for something. It might be connected to this.

"I hope we won't."

And with that, before she could corner me anymore, I took off.

Urameshi had been a ghost; he could see other ghosts now, too. He was my last hope with this situation, my last hope in finding my brother's spirit that wandered away. He'd come in contact with other ghosts, right? That girl, Sayaka... he'd found her somehow so he could find Minoru.

But as I reached the floor for his apartment, I remembered to slow down, to breathe, since he had a mother at home. Though I wanted them to know this was an emergency, bringing his mother into this wasn't a good idea. I'd never met her before, aside from that one night, and even then I'd scuffled off back to my apartment before they could compose themselves and corner me.

I didn't know how she acted but if she was like any other mother, she might be nosy.

I searched the room numbers next to the apartment doors, and found Urameshi's. His room number was printed neatly on the door in formal typing. Steadying my breathing, trying to calm my wheezing, I rang the doorbell and heard it echo behind the door.

You'd think I'd quit the damn cigarettes but really, all I wanted now was to sit down and smoke the damn pack.

I was hoping Urameshi would open the door, but his mother appeared behind the threshold, recognizing me instantly.

"You're the girl that—"

Was my face that recognizable? Seriously?

"Hey!" My heavy breathed greeting cut her off. I didn't want to explain the situation from last month, so I plastered on the largest smile I could muster, "I was hoping Urameshi was home."

"Yeah, he is…" Like Keiko, her stare was skeptical, but it quickly turned to one of amusement as she stepped aside to allow me entrance. "Yusuke has two girls over today, what a lady's man!"

Two girls?

That meant Botan! Something was _definitely_ up.

I nodded in acknowledgment as I stepped inside, taking off my shoes.

"He's around the corner, in his room," she nodded to the door and walked off into the living room down the narrow, off-white hallway.

"Thank you."

"That voice…" Urameshi's voice carried into the same hallway as I stepped through his front door. "Aiko?"

He laid in bed, battered and bandaged as if he'd fought a gang on his own only last night. As I stepped inside the room, finding his room to be fairly clean and organized minus a few magazines lying around, I was reminded of Minoru. And then, the realization of why I was here hit me hard again. The anger and anxiety I'd felt while having my temper tantrum in front of Minamino returned.

"Minoru," I had to choke back the anger and tears once more as my voice cracked. "He won't wake up."

Urameshi seemed surprised to hear my vulnerability, since he only saw me as the bitchy girl who busted his chops at every chance she got. My eyes stayed on the two as they exchanged wary glances, clearly knowing something about the problem. Before I could continue, the TV news report carried inside from the living room.

_Some students from a primary school in the same distract have contracted a strange illness, all of them have been admitted to the hospital. Some reports say it's from poisonous gas but there's no evidence to support the fact and investigations are still underway…_

"It's not a gas!" I squeaked, and despite using all my strength to keep my voice down, Urameshi and Botan smacked their hands over their ears. "I saw his soul come out of his body!"

Urameshi grimaced, regret and anger furrowing his brow as he turned to Botan, who was shushing me with her finger pressed against her lips.

"That guy ate their souls?" Urameshi's question brought Botan's attention to him as he lowered his hands.

"A _guy_?" But my question went unnoticed.

Botan nodded grimly, as if that was something normal (despite horrible). I shook my head back and forth, processing the true meaning of that sentence.

"Gōki loves the soul of kids," she replied. "He can fast for years but once he eats souls again, he can't seem to stop… And as long as he has the Gakidama he'll be able to take more than normal."

"Gakidama?" Again, unnoticed.

"How long do they last in his stomach?" Urameshi threw the covers over his body and hopped out of bed.

What the fuck are they talking about? There's a human who eats the souls of children?

I was going to tear that creep a new urethra.

"About a day," She watched as Urameshi shot up from the bed, and began cornering him back into the comfy sheets. "Yusuke, where do you think you're going?! You're in no shape!"

"No, he's going!" I stuck my arms between the two, gently pushing Botan off Urameshi. "If he doesn't help me, I'm going alone."

Maybe it was selfish to force him into fighting when he had obviously gotten his ass handed to him the day before, but...

"But Aiko, this isn't—" Botan was cut off instantly, but not by me.

"Aiko, you can't fight," Urameshi stepped between me and Botan trying to assert power, but his wounds diminished the fact. "It's a lot different than what you're expecting. Swinging your school bag into his head isn't going to fix this."

"_I don't care,_" I seethed and about spit on his face. "That creep made it my business when he stole my brother's soul."

Urameshi and Botan kept their eyes on me, and though I knew I'd be a hindrance in Urameshi beating this scum to a pulp, I had to go.

"He has my brother's soul and if what I actually heard from your mouth was true then he may have eaten it already, yesterday. I'm going whether you like it or not, and I'll follow you around like a damn lost dog if I have to."

Urameshi began protesting, "Aiko, you're not going. This is dangerous—"

But Botan spoke up, pulling a ring out of her pocket to cut him off.

"Aiko, you can stay with me during all of this. And Yusuke," Botan handed Urameshi a ring, similar to how I handed customers their change, and his face dropped with surprise. "This will increase your shot, but you can only use it once. You won't be able to stand well afterwards."

Strangely, though we barely interacted, she knew I wouldn't back down. She knew I would follow him across the nation if I had to.

So if that was the only way I'd be invited to kick this fucker's ass, I was taking it.

I could see the lump in her throat as she debated on whether it was a bad idea to take my side, but her strange pink eyes were determined to get this situation over. There was something at stake for her as well.

And though I was confused at all the strange gadgets and terms they were using (reiki, Gakidama, youki, rei gun, and this strange locator and ring) I stayed quiet, leaving those questions for another time when saving my little brother wasn't on the line. I was too anxious about seeing this guy beat to a pulp to care about how it was going to be done. Watch now, ask later.

After scuffling around the area near his apartment for twenty minutes, passing by stores and restaurants, Urameshi's watch went off again. The scum of the earth was located at a nearby park, greedy enough to take more souls.

As if my brother's wasn't enough.

I stayed behind with Botan as we approached the park, heading past the play structure and sandbox into a more wooded area to stay concealed. Through bushes and trees, we watched Urameshi approach the scum from afar. The man was intimidating, at least nine feet in height; he was a monster, reminding me of Frankenstein.

"Urameshi will be fine against him?" I shifted closer to Botan, clouding my view behind the bush we crouched behind.

I was debating on being bait for the opponent.

It'd only be fair to distract the guy. I mean, a nine foot monster against a five foot-something juvenile delinquent? Not fair in the slightest.

Botan bit her lip as she watched the small conversation between Urameshi and the man, worried for the boy she'd kept company for as a ghost. If she was worried, I definitely had to be. Maybe I should do something, even if it's just a distraction. I knew I couldn't handle a monster like him—hell, I can't handle my little brother to be honest, he'd whoop my ass in a fair fight of wrestling—but I could do something to help Urameshi kick his ass.

My eyes turned back to Urameshi and Frankenstein, hearing the booming laugh from the monster, but my eyes had to deceive me…

The large man's body expanded, building muscle and depth, skin browning, horns growing atop his forehead, teeth sharpening and growing…

"W-w-what the hell is that?!" My shriek was cut short as Botan slapped her hand over my mouth, but my muffled shock continued. "That's a goddamn ogre! What the hell is going on?!"

I know, I know. I had been calling him a monster, but I didn't actually think...

As the man transformed, literally growing and morphing into an ogre, his clothes ripped. Luckily, his pants stayed intact. I couldn't help but feel like he was an evil Hulk.

But he was an ogre. Ogres were…real?

Ogre's existed in fairytales... in mangas...

That was an ogre…right?

What was he? He sure as hell wasn't human!

Urameshi delved into the battle seemingly without thought, striking the opponent in the stomach, but the ogre remained unharmed. In fact, he laughed as Urameshi recoiled, knuckles bloodied.

His under-bite became prominent as he spoke, "My body's hard as steel, even a knife couldn't cut it."

Snapping twigs behind us caught our attention, and Botan and I turned from our post to see a little girl, coming to retrieve her rogue ball. Botan quickly dug in her pocket and pulled out a thick compact mirror. Out of the two of us, she was the one that had her head screwed on right.

"Hold onto this," her whisper was almost drowned out from her quick movement in the wooded area of snapping twigs. She quickly moved towards the girl, "I'm going to make sure nobody else comes here."

I nodded as I took the mirror, though I was completely confused on why she wanted me to hold it. But I said nothing as she walked away, guiding the girl back to the park with nervous, bashful laughter.

I held onto the mirror, gripping it tight as I turned back to the fight just in time to find the ogre lunging at Urameshi. He ducked and slipped past the attack from the monster's abnormally large hands, and slid down the thick pine tree behind him that broke in half on contact. I wondered if anyone could hear the commotion as the trunk crashed to the ground.

Thoughts pushed aside, I found myself cheering Urameshi on despite my complete, utter confusion. He proved to have some sort of brain function while fighting, as he picked up the fallen trunk and rammed it into the ogre's stomach.

"He has to have him now!" I couldn't help but hiss to myself in hopes.

But as the horrifics continued, my face dropped. Even the sharp edges of a broken tree trunk couldn't do anything against the ogre's skin.

Laughing, the ogre gripped the trunk and took the weapon as his own, and knocked Urameshi yards away. And for a few seconds, I was wondering why each stomp from the ogre as he made his way to beat Urameshi was a high-pitched beep, until I realized the mirror in my hand was sounding off. Confused, I opened the compact, finding Botan grinning where the mirror should have been placed.

It was a communicator.

"I've got all the kids counted," she was talking to me like this was nothing! I hadn't seen anything like this before. "How's Yusuke?"

"He's... uh."

But my surprise was short-lived as I heard the snapping of wood and crashes to follow. I found the ogre hadn't stopped his beat down on the already wounded fourteen year-old.

"He's getting his ass kicked!" I hissed.

Without thinking, I jumped over the bush I was behind and rushed into the clearing of the woods towards the fight. I knew I was useless, but with the ogre pinning Urameshi on the ground, he could die. Even worse, my brother's soul wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell of returning if he was gone. I would lose two people I cared about.

"Aiko, get back here!" Botan's heeding meant nothing. "You're going to get hurt!"

I rammed my shoulder into the ogre's hip, and the recoil sent me onto the ground. The ogre's only movement was turning to view me, eyeing me as I stood up straight, having lost the compact somewhere between my fall and my landing.

"Stupid prick," I snapped, realizing I'd just thrown myself to a disturbed beast.

Oh, god. Okay, Urameshi, I'm getting him off you. Now hurry up and kick his ass.

My eyes drifted to Urameshi who was still lying face first into the ground as the ogre laughed, approaching me. I wasn't strong physically; I was actually useless in this whole situation. I should have stayed in the woods…

But if I hadn't done anything, Urameshi may have gotten killed.

The ogre's chortle was horrendous, angering me further, and his large hand wrapped around my neck, lifting me from the ground.

Urameshi, hurry, goddammit! Get this sick fucker off me!

Overcome with shock, I couldn't even scream. I swung my legs around, aiming for his face as he lifted me closer to his sloven jaw.

"The Reikai Tantei has to send in a little girl to fight his battles?" The ogre's laugh was infuriating, and his drool was atrocious.

Drool… He was going to take my soul!

Holy shit, Urameshi!

"Aiko, what the hell did you think you were doing?!" Urameshi snapped at me.

"I don't know!" I managed to whimper out a reply as my eyes drifted to Urameshi's struggling body.

Urameshi's arms buckled as he tried lifting himself from the ground, but my view was quickly taken back to the ogre as his breath smothered my face.

No, no, no, no!

The ogre's mouth opened wide, barring sharpened, inhuman teeth as he leaned in. His tongue slapped out as if to beckon my soul from my body.

Panicked, my legs started flailing once more, and, as if luck was on my side, my foot connected with his chin. His split second of weakness, not tightening his jaw to devour my soul, allowed me to force his jaw closed—clamping straight down on his tongue.

His grip on my neck loosened as I collapsed to the ground, and a sharp pain shocked my elbow as I landed. Screams caught in my throat, I couldn't feel my left arm as I scrambled backwards on my bottom, unable to pull myself up. As he cursed in pain, his hand wrapped around my ankle, dragging me back towards him.

His roar seemed to be all that existed at the moment, "You're going down first—"

From behind, an arm shot in front of me as gripped hands slammed a tree branch into the ogre's mouth, silencing his loud voice.

Next to me, crouched over, was Urameshi.

Fuck yes!

"I was waiting for you to open your loud mouth!" Urameshi's anger was nothing compared to my confusion as he held up his index finger, adorned with the ring. "Your outer body is tough as steel, but what about your insides?"

"What the fuck are you going to do, Urameshi? _Poke him to death_?!" My screaming stopped as a small orb of light shone around the tip of his finger, spiking my curiosity.

"Eat shit," Urameshi thought he was clever with that proud grin on his face, but still doubted himself as he kept his final words quiet.

The light emitted from his finger and projected into the ogre's mouth. Briefly, the blast accumulated in his mouth and then expanded inside, tearing open the masseter muscles first before deteriorating his entire head. In what felt slow motion, his head tore apart, flinging muscle tissue, bone, and teeth all around the area as his eyes bulged out and became lost in the bloody mess.

The souls imprisoned in the ogre's stomach floated free from the headless beast, having an opening through the dismembered neck. If I was lucky, Minoru's soul would be floating to the hospital now.

But more prominent issues had risen: I was covered in blood, and there was a dead body in front of me.

There was a dead body in front of me. A dead body. A dead, headless body.

The dead, headless body of an ogre.

An ogre...

No. I shook my head and turned away from the open neck. He deserved it. He deserved it. Don't freak out. You've seen horror movies before, you've seen dead bodies on TV and in mangas, and it's exactly the same.

He deserved it anyways, he took Minoru's soul.

Minoru…

And though I was dying to check on my little brother, I had to hold myself back and give time to the person who deserved it. Pushing the thoughts and images of the dead ogre from my mind, I turned to Urameshi. He ignored the ogre's beheaded body and searched his clothing for the orb.

"Damn," he mumbled, pulling out a green orb the size of a small child's ball, and sat back on his bottom. "Just one artifact and I'm like this… I have two more to go. My future sure looks bright."

I looked away from Urameshi and down at the shirt I'd borrowed from Kitajima, finding it soaked in blood. My skirt… at least that wasn't too bad. I could pass it off as my menstrual cycle finally starting up again.

My legs didn't want to work, they were sluggish, in shock. I was unable to stand up. Botan appeared from behind me and rushed straight to Urameshi, hovering her hands over him to keep him steady.

"How are we going to get around looking like this?" I croaked out what I could as I forced myself to crawl closer to Urameshi.

I noticed his clothes weren't soaked as mine were; he'd been behind me when he shot the ogre's head clean off, and Botan had been in the park, away from the danger. But her turtle neck wouldn't do me any favors if she wanted to offer it. I didn't think she wanted to walk around in her bra.

"Well, how am _I_ going to get around looking like this?" I corrected myself, finding to be the only one soaked in blood.

Calm down, it's just blood.

Desensitize. Desensitize.

You've seen stuff like this in comic books, it's okay.

I made my way to him and sat back on my bottom as I took in the sight of the decapitated body, forcing myself to desensitize further.

Urameshi moved his arms slightly to take off the jacket, adjusting himself as he sat up straight, "You can use my jacket."

Shaking, adrenaline dispersing, I gripped the jacket to my chest for dear life as I welcomed my friend moving his palms over my face to wipe off the blood. After smearing some off, he wiped his hands on his pants and tried again to make my face clear.

Botan's hands still hovered over Urameshi with concern for his stability as I stared down at jacket. The faint orange glow from the sunset in the distance polished the green threads, pushing only one thought into my mind about the entire situation as I continued to desensitize.

"You have so much explaining to do, Urameshi..." He grinned sheepishly at my hoarse demand, letting go of my face.

What the hell have I just gotten myself into…


	8. Mardy Bum

**—Minamino.**

Even though the orange glow of the sunset was captured on the dull hospital walls, she should be forcing herself to sleep than stay up and talk to us. She exhausted herself to stay awake while Hatanaka and I were here, but I was sure if she just let herself rest she'd feel better.

The knife glided gently underneath the curling skin of the apple I peeled for her as Hatanaka chattered away with conversations about their office, company, and friends to soothe her mood. My mother was a busybody, so I expected the stories about his day to only make her sad and wish she was better, but she enjoyed hearing about the things she missed.

Hatanaka was able to brighten her mood in the dull, safe hospital room.

"This time Ayame took off all the head's from Hotaru's bobble-head collection and is planting them around the office," Hatanaka laughed, cheeks flushing.

"Ayame and Hotaru always joke around like that!" My mother chorused in.

She'd be fine without me; she had Hatanaka to soothe her mood.

"Shuichi, dear," my mother's call dragged me out of my thoughts, and I smiled towards her as Hatanaka helped her sit up in bed. "How was your day at school?"

"It was fine," I gave her an apologetic smile, honestly having nothing of worth—or nothing that wouldn't vex her—to tell her.

"Oh, I forgot," her gasp from remembering some information caused a coughing fit.

I dropped the apple on her bed as Hatanaka and I hovered over my mother. Raspy, throat–tearing coughs churned blood on the bed sheets, and I began to fear that I'd have to use the mirror sooner than I'd planned. If we couldn't calm her, it'd strain her heart.

Hatanaka left to retrieve a nurse as I placed my hand on her back, not knowing how to stop her coughing fit. But she soon recovered, taking slow breaths as she wiped the blood from her chin. The nurses arrived to increase her IV drip and monitor her vitals. Hatanaka and I waited patiently on the either side of the bed for my mother to be cleared, we were lucky to have avoided another critical condition.

"I won't be out by Thursday," my mother seemed saddened at the thought, but I couldn't fathom what Thursday meant for her. "I won't be able to check up on Aiko at the grocery store."

For some reason, her motherly instincts had latched onto Hojo, despite not knowing about her disorder.

"How is she?" My mother's worrisome nature only gave me an irritation for Hojo. "How's her family?"

But the irritation disappeared, and since her temper tantrum earlier today, I'd felt guilty. I hadn't thought through the consequences of releasing other items, dangerous items, into Hiei and Gōki's hands. Perhaps I overlooked the consequences because I knew I wouldn't be around long enough to care.

Though Hojo had changed that.

In a way, she was a reminder of the human families in this city. She wasn't just a face that walked by, existing for a second and disappearing the next. She had a family; she was a person with emotions, thoughts, and goals.

And she was affected by my actions.

Though it was completely unintentional, I had directly caused an action that had drastically affected her life.

Briefly, I returned to skinning the apple, but on the side of my ring finger, between my joint, was a smudge I realized I'd missed when washing my hands. The copper eye shadow had still smudged into the crevices of my skin, faintly mixing in with what I presumed was her black eyeliner. I smoothed my thumb over it, and it disappeared instantly.

Maybe it was just my mind playing with me, furthering my guilt.

I owed her an apology. More suitable, I owed her a free pass to bite my head clean off my neck.

"She said today they've put a down payment on an apartment," either way, I wouldn't allow Hojo's trouble's to vex my mother.

"That's wonderful!"

The nurse next to her, whose eyes saddened at the chart in her hands, turned towards me and Hatanaka.

"I'm going to have to ask you both to leave, please, just for a moment," I could tell she didn't want to rip the two of us from my mother with the way she fiddled with her side fringe, but it was a necessity if she was asking. "We're going to increase the diuretics to relieve some of the swelling, and the doctor's going to come in for a check-up."

My mother was obviously upset, but she wasn't going against the doctor's orders. She knew the only way to spend more time with me and Hatanaka was to listen to the doctor, and hopefully she'd live to see us tomorrow.

"I'll see you tomorrow, dear?" Though my mother enjoyed spending time with me, I also troubled her when I left late. "And you, Kazuya?"

It was her polite way of asking me to go home and rest, "Yes."

"Of course!" He choked out a nervous chuckle.

The two of us bid our mother farewell, and Hatanaka's nerve-wracking actions while outside the room—rubbing his hands together, pacing nervously, frantic mumbling—only reinforced my belief that he would soothe her when I was gone. His worry and care for her, my mother had picked a more than exceptional man to be with.

She loved having someone to fret over, and these actions would tickle her fancy, even when she was the one being worried over.

I placed my hand on his shoulder, drawing him from his thoughts, "Hatanaka, she'll be fine. The doctor is just checking up on her."

His smile was nervous and forced chuckle were just calming measures, "You're right, Shu-kun. You're right."

He took a deep breath as he looked down the hallway, watching a few nurses wheel their older patients into rooms, some guiding them along to help them steady as they walked. And, in the midst of taking in our dull, depressing surroundings, a white lab coat turned the corner towards us and headed straight for my mother's room.

"Would you like a ride home?" Hatanaka's voice drew me from watching the nurses complete their duties.

"No, thank you," I appreciated his offer, but now I had to be preoccupied with the concern that I may have to use the mirror earlier than expected.

I wasn't in the mood to play polite and console him, I had more pressing issues. He rubbed the back of his neck in acknowledgement. Though the sunset that shone through the large wall window behind us glared on his glasses and blinded his eyes, his tense jaw gave away his feelings as he passed me and walked down the hall.

I waited as the doctor passed by me and entered my mother's room, and though I was tempted to try my way back inside, I knew it was better to leave and make a decision.

Upon walking down the hallway, an older woman stepped in front of me, unbeknownst to my presence. She stepped backwards, out of my way as she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.

I recognized her instantly: Hojo's mother.

The same brown eyes drifted down to see me, and she smiled, laughing awkwardly as she covered her mouth with her handkerchief. Puffy eyes and flushed face, she began moving her hands and fingers into figures, but quickly stopped as she realized I wasn't able to understand her.

She put her hand on my shoulder and gestured for me to step inside the hospital room she'd previously exited, making awkward, pitched noises of approval and offers, "_un?_"

Taken back and unsure of how to handle the situation, I obliged and followed her inside the room.

Hojo was absent, but her father sat next to the bed, construction cap in his lap, hands over his mouth. He was built, though the only way I had noticed through the thick layer of his uniform was his sleeves being rolled up, revealing his defined forearms.

In the bed lay a boy, Minoru. Eyes dazed, lazily open, but no life. A breathing tube was shoved in his mouth, and I began to feel a sharp wrenching in my stomach.

Fifteen years in the human world, and I'd gone soft.

Her mother tapped her father's shoulder, but he merely shook his head, forcing tears to slide down dust ridden cheeks. His hair was tied back into a low ponytail and it brushed his upper back with his movement as he took his son's hand, ignoring my presence. But I didn't hold the inconsiderate actions against him. His son was on the verge of death.

Partially because of me.

She patted my shoulders apologetically and moved towards the nightstand near the bed, picking up a paper and pen that sat next to the small blue vase that held a bundle of daisies, geraniums, and hydrangeas. I eyed the room as she scribbled down some words; there were colorful balloons and large stuffed animals surrounding the walls, having been tucked up on chairs in the corners of the rooms.

With one large stuffed bear held a large note that read, "_Get well soon, Minoru! We'll see you in class 2C soon!_"

My eyes drifted back to Hojo's mother as she handed the paper to me.

In neat handwriting, a straight line on lineless paper, "_Why are you here at the hospital tonight?_"

And in smaller print underneath was a small, drawn face with a smile. Next to it read, "_And don't worry. I can read lips_."

"I'm visiting my mother," I handed the paper back to her and watched her scribble down more words as she let out a sigh.

"_Oh, I'm so sorry. Is she okay?_"

"She should be soon," the words were strange coming out of my mouth, as if to be the seal of my death.

"_That's wonderful to hear! I'm so happy for you._"

"Will he be alright?"

I looked over to the boy with dark brown hair, shaggy but brushed. He had to be no older than six years old. And, as if to answer my question, a limpid soul, shaped as a tadpole shining pastel in the orange sunlight, seeped through the cracked open window. It floated towards Minoru and struggled its way into the his mouth.

The Reikai Tantei had defeated Gōki.

The heart monitor he was attached to changed tempo as life filled in his eyes, drawing his parent's attention to his bed. His father practically crawled on the bed, toppling over his son as his mother stared in disbelief, jaw dropped.

I inched out of the room, feeling I wasn't meant to be included in their intimate moment. Her parents wouldn't mind my departure regardless. And with this relief, I began to feel physically lighter. I may owe Hojo an apology still, but the issue didn't plague me anymore. I could focus solely on my dilemma.

I had an obligation to fulfill.

The Reikai Tantei defeated Gōki. I needed to convince him to let me keep the mirror until the full moon.

I left the hospital, debating on finding him or returning home to calculate when would be the best time to use the mirror.

Finding him now wouldn't prove to be hard. In fact, he was close by. I remembered his scent from the woods the other day. How I would go about confronting him would be difficult. Whether he defeated Gōki easily was the main question. If he was in suitable shape he may attack on site, if he remembered me.

His scent mixed with Gōki's, but he was still easy to find in the sea of people on the sidewalk I'd turned onto. This was to both of our advantage. If he was smart, he'd stay calm in the public eye to allow for a calm discussion.

But what had me on edge was the scent.

His scent was strong, _along_ with Gōki's. He'd shed the brute's blood during battle and was able to walk in public covered in his enemy's remains, confident that even if someone did see, it wouldn't be a problem. Not only this, but his scent was still recognizable. Would he be brute enough to carry around Gōki, or even a limb from the ghoul?

Guarding myself, I continued through the crowded street, calculating an escape plan if a conflict would arise.

An alarm went off feet ahead of me, signaling my arrival, and I could hear the familiar voice from the woods panic.

"He wouldn't attack in public, would he?"

I calmed myself, realizing he had some common sense. Why he was walking around with Gōki's blood on him was another story.

A small clearing of people, avoiding the boy, brought him into my sight. Though I wasn't expecting the person who'd accompanied him, the person who had carried Gōki's scent on her had a green jacket draped over her to cover the bloodbath she'd showered in earlier.

Familiar brown eyes met mine. Distracted at the bloodied face, I noted red stains that she had tried to smear off but found no avail in completing. Brown brows furrowed, the same incredulous look I'd seen earlier today with Suzuki-sensei was mixed with fear. She had no idea what to expect from me.

And I, her.

I had no idea she was partners with the Reikai Tantei, she didn't strike me as the subordinate type, a person to take orders when her life was on the line. But, now that I remembered her earlier words, about wanting to be on the police force, I wasn't surprised in the slightest.

Now, I assumed all her interactions with me were to watch over me, as if the Reikai had found out I had taken refuge in this body.

Though her incredulous look was striking me otherwise.

The two teens stood still as I approached them, and I stopped in front of Hojo in knowledge of what she was capable. From her frail state, it wasn't much.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to fight," I eyed the detective, seeing Hojo's expression confuse more in my peripheral vision.

The two teens stood silent, waiting for me to continue, "I have a request, and I'm sure Hojo will vouch for me."

The detective's eyes drifted to Hojo in shock, but her eyes hadn't left me, her expression still dumbfounded, jaw agape. She clutched onto the jacket, pulling it over her small frame as if to hide herself as I continued.

"I'm going to return the mirror in three days, I can promise that."

The detective stayed silent, and I began to walk past them, though I remembered the Dean approaching me earlier during class hours. He'd not only hunted me down, but also an upperclassmen called Natsume.

"Hojo," her eyes followed me as I began to slowly pass her. "From the incident with Suzuki-sensei this morning, you've been suspended for two days. And… your brother is fine."

I owed her much more words than just that. I owed her an apology and a fitting reprimanding by her rage. But now wasn't the time, and she didn't seem capable anyways.

I continued into the crowd of people, disappearing, but I could still hear their conversation.

"You know that guy?"

Hojo, as usual, was honest, "What the _fuck_ just happened?"

* * *

**—Aiko.**

I expected my shower to be quick once I arrived home and shoved the bloody blouse in the trash, but I spent more time trying to desensitize from the murder I'd witnessed than lathering shampoo in my hair. Even taking in the new, white tiled and granite bathroom wasn't interesting, all I could focus on was what had happened.

A murder.

The silky, thick liquid was soft, even though I almost scrubbed the skin off my face. A sharp pain from my elbow drew me from my thoughts, and I noticed it was swollen around the joint and bruising. But even pain didn't distract me for long, despite it lingering constantly.

It wasn't a crime. He deserved it.

Pink bubbles washed into the drain, swirls of red followed quickly in the water, reminding me of the ogre's head exploding to bits. Torn ligaments… the way his head expanded and stretched apart so easily was strange.

Stop thinking about it.

But the thoughts returned.

Urameshi had explained everything to me after Botan left briefly to return the Gakidama. I understood the concept of the Reikai. A world where they judged you and sentenced you. But ogres? Ghouls? This was unreal. It was the prank of the century.

I shut off the shower, watching the soap and bloodied water flow into the drain.

And Minamino… That locator went crazy when he arrived.

Was Minamino an ogre? Why did he have an artifact?

Wrapping a towel around my hair and gritting my teeth at the pain in my elbow, I stepped into the living room to try to enjoy the few minutes I would have alone to walk around naked. Spacious, fancy, it was a step up from what I was used to in the old apartment. Hard wood floors, off-white walls, and with no furniture yet I knew if we kept it to a minimum, we'd feel richer than we really were.

And instead of making my way to the phone to call my parents at the hospital to check Minoru, I stood in the middle of the living room, air drying, completely confused and beside myself. Even the new apartment couldn't distract me for long.

What did Minamino have to do with all of this?

Did I really want to know?

I was nosy. I was the nosiest person alive, to be honest. I knew everyone's name in Meiou, how many relationships they've had, who they dragged into that bedroom last Friday at that party, who was in what club or on what sports team. Hell, I often knew whose parents worked for what company or store, and their salary.

But this was different.

I witnessed a murder… I almost died.

I shook my head, as if it'd throw away the thoughts, and found the phone on the kitchen counter. I dialed the hospital's number as I spun around slowly, wrapping the cord around my waist while I waited for the staff to pick up.

God I can't even use this arm anymore, I thought, shoving the phone between my ear and shoulder so the pain would stop. But fuck me, it stayed.

Soon, I was directed to Minoru's room.

"Where have you been?" His voice was low, and I wondered if he found out I'd skipped all day.

Luckily, we hadn't filed our change of address with the school yet so there was no way he should have found out.

"At work," it wasn't like he'd check my hours. "How's Minoru?"

"He's awake," his sigh broke his voice, and I couldn't help but feel guilty for leaving my parents alone with him.

"Are you guys coming home tonight?"

"The doctors want to keep him overnight to see what may have been the problem," muffles and static passed through the receiver as he moved around in the hospital room. "All the kids that had his condition woke up around the same time as him, Aiko."

It was an observation, but his direction towards me felt as if it was an accusation…

"What does that mean?" I tried sounding as innocent as possible.

"I'm not sure, but I'm staying until visiting hours are over. Your mother should be home soon."

"Alright," I ran my index finger into the cord, twisting the curl around my finger. "Tell Minoru I love him, and I'll see him tomorrow."

"Can do," the sentence prompted me to hang up, but his voice caught me, and I dragged the phone back to my ears. "By the way, there's some food in the fridge. Eat."

Food wasn't something I wanted to think about now, "Okay."

At the thought of food as I hung up, I'd remembered I hadn't eaten at all today. On cue, a sharp pang stabbed my stomach. That, and accompanied with a dizzy spell, I quickly made my way across the apartment into what I figured would be the new room I'd share with Minoru.

I crawled on the futon and tried steadying my breathing and focus. As the dizzy spell wore off, I sifted through the folded piles of clothing on the wooden floor to find some pajamas that Natsume had given me.

All that running and excitement and no food... I'd eat tomorrow, I promised. I'll have breakfast. I'll shove down a whopping 800 calories.

No more.

No less.

That's progress, right? Progress from 700. An extra 100 disgusting calories that are just going to transfer into fat anyways.

But as soon as I agreed to that, my mind returned to the happenings of today, and I kept my eyes open to deter the images of the ogre's head being blown off. Falling asleep with your eyes open was a mission in itself.

At least, the next day, when I went to the hospital to visit Minoru, the everything from yesterday wasn't on my mind as much.

"Hey, Minoru," I'd brought Kitajima along to visit my brother.

Since she always did a swell job of keeping my mind off other things at the bookstore I figured she'd help him here.

She tucked her hair behind her ear as she sat in the pleather chair next to the white-sheeted hospital bed. Minoru looked at her curiously from under the sheets, having never met her before.

"This is Kitajima," I crawled on the bed, sitting cross legged in front of him, breaking in the new jeans I'd been given.

I had to remind myself that's how new jeans felt, it wasn't like I was getting fatter or anything… I closed my cardigan to shield my stomach, feeling an overwhelming flood of insecurity and inferiority. 800 was a bad idea.

"Aiko, I keep telling you to call me Maya," she quickly turned her attention to Minoru. "Call me Maya."

"Habit," I shrugged as Minoru looked at me with curiosity.

"I heard you like superhero stories," she grinned.

"Yeah, and I like aliens," Minoru eyed the plastic bag Kitajima placed in her lap, hopeful. "What did you bring?"

"I like aliens, too!"

Damn, she was going to become best friends forever with my five year-old brother.

I couldn't help but stifle a laugh about that possibility as she pulled out a few manga. Healthy and full of vigor, and completely unaware of the back of his blue hospital gown being open to expose his underwear, Minoru practically jumped out of the bed to grab the books and see what she brought.

I didn't know why they had to keep him for observation; it was only racking up bills we couldn't afford to pay.

"Oh,_ ne-chan_!" Minoru held up a comic, as if it had any relevance to what he was about to tell me. "There's a movie on video of these lions. It's a kid movie, and I really want to rent it!"

"What's it about?"

I shifted slightly, and my elbow flared. I kept myself composed as Minoru continued, taking a deep breath.

"It's called The Lion King," he bounced on his bottom in excitement. "It looks so cool; can you please rent it for me? Please?"

"I'll ask mom and dad, okay?" I relaxed my arm, trying to subdue the consistent flaring pain.

"Thank you!" He cheered, continuing to bounce before looking to Kitajima.

I should just look it up myself and buy it. They shouldn't spend money on worthless things like that.

Money. I should drop out. I was already suspended.

That'd take a load off my parents.

I watched as the two manga fans talked, gushing over their favorite volume and characters and introducing each other to different books. Though Minoru was young, he could read fairly well. He was at least a year ahead of his class in terms of reading levels.

A knock on the door turned our attention to the door. Urameshi stood in the doorway, a bit nervous to come in. Keiko stood behind him, perky with a welcoming smile.

"Damn, Minoru," I grinned, turning back to the five year old. "You've got so many girls coming to visit you. Such a lady's man."

I scooted over on the bed to make room for Keiko, who I gestured to, while Urameshi took the other chair on the opposite side of the bed.

"Keiko," I nodded to Keiko, and then to each person for introduction. "Kitajima, Minoru, and Urameshi. You are all, now, introduced. Have at it."

Speaking of Urameshi... his case. What did Minamino have to do with this nonsense?

Minutes into their visit and Minoru had made friends with people who more than twice his age. I lay back against the edge of the hospital bed, watching my little brother talk about all sorts of things, his favorite sport and cartoon, manga, who his best friend at school was. And all the teenagers talked to him, completely enjoying the time spent with him.

"What? Tekken is better than Street Fighter, kid," Urameshi laughed.

"I'm sure Minoru could beat you on either game," Kitajima giggled.

"At least I'm sure I can beat you," Urameshi said, grinning.

"Why's that?" I butted in the conversation, still leaning against the edge of the footrest.

Urameshi laughed expectantly, knowing what was coming, "Great, here we go—"

"What is it she doesn't have to make her win against you? Opposable thumbs? No life? Stupid, over gelled hair?"

Keiko and Kitajima burst out in laughter and Minoru was quick to defend his idol. But our laughter drowned out his whiny arguments as we continued to double over.

A few minutes later, I noticed Urameshi gesture to the door, a quick nod, and I got up from the bed and exited the room. I waited by the empty nurse's station, and a minute later Urameshi's green uniform came out from the room, standing out brightly against the dull, safe tones of the hospital walls.

"What now?" I knew I'd keep getting dragged into this stuff.

But the nosy part of me couldn't help but stay and pry for information; I had to know what was going on. I had to get answers from the clusterfuck that was yesterday. The clusterfuck that involved Minamino.

"You know that guy from yesterday," He leaned his back against the desk of the nurse's station. "Kurama?"

"Who?" I kept my voice low, as if we were telling secrets that could ruin our social status. "You mean Minamino?"

He shrugged, knowing him as someone else, "If that's his name, I guess."

"Yeah, he's in my homeroom," my eyes darted around the open hallway as I leaned in towards Urameshi, hissing. "Is he another ogre?"

His eyes widened, almost innocently, as if he hadn't thought about that possibility before, "I don't know."

"Then?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to tell me if I can trust him."

"You're going to have to tell me what he's got to do with this, first."

"He's a part of this group of thieves that stole artifacts from the Reikai," Urameshi's voice lowered, quieting as people passed by us.

"Sounds like something from a manga…"

Within a second, the both of us let out a small chuckle, and I leaned in again with composure.

"What artifacts are left?"

"The orb we got from Gōki lets him take souls. There's a sword left, and Kurama took a mirror," he explained, drifting off slightly as a nurse and patient walked by us.

"What does the mirror do?"

"Grants someone their wish. Any idea why he'd want it?"

Instantly, memories flooded back.

When I'd been invited into his home, sitting out on the back porch with him… His mother.

"I think I know why," the words came out, directed towards myself, but Urameshi heard regardless. I looked up the fourteen year old, who was just a few inches taller than me. "He'll give it back."

Urameshi searched my face before nodding, and we began to turn back to the room, but the awkward twist of my forearm sent a sharp pain into my elbow, flaring the pain that was always there.

Urameshi turned to me as he heard me seething in pain, clutching my elbow.

"Your elbow? From yesterday?" His hand hovered over where the pain excreted as I took off my cardigan.

He grimaced as he saw the swollen, purple and yellow elbow.

"You didn't even try to fix it!" He chided me. "It's… did you dislocate it?"

"If I did, then I'm a goddamn trooper," I winced, still trying to keep up some badass façade I didn't even have.

"How can you not notice this? The pain of a dislocated joint is a lot more than a nuisance!"

"This isn't my default arm, but I noticed it," I shook my head. "I can't always move it."

"Oh, dear," a passing by nurse walking by happened to notice my arm; she tucked a loose strand of black hair back into her bun as she closed in on me. "Miss, that's a simple dislocation, come here. We'll fix that."

She gently touched my elbow and examined it, "I'm sure there's no major damage, so that's good. It can be relocated through applying some pressure."

I was relieved as she told me this, and then I realized the situation.

This was her job. This was what she got paid to do.

I slunk back, jerking my elbow from her. That only caused me to whimper out as I sunk behind Urameshi, but my voice stayed harsh regardless.

"No, don't fucking touch me. You'll charge me for this shit."

"Miss—"

"Urameshi, shove it back in place."

"What?!" He stepped back, arms almost flailing.

"You fucking heard me, shove it back in place."

"That's dangerous! Please just come with me," the nurse pleaded, and her wide brown eyes and round face almost got to me.

But I had enough financial issues.

"Back the fuck off, I'll break your face," I snapped as I shoved my elbow in his face, sparking the pain further. "Urameshi. Shove it back in place."

"Young man, don't do that!"

"Urameshi," I barked at him, and he seemed to take into consideration my current financial problems.

He quickly grabbed my forearm and tricep and applied pressure, pushing each in opposite directions. He was determined to crack it back into place before she could call security or get anyone to stop him.

Cries of pain caught in my throat as all my nerve endings were set on fire. Legs buckled as he applied pressure, and I about fell to the ground, only his strength holding me up by the arm.

Finally, a loud crack echoed in the hallway, and a sharper pain stung the joint of my elbow.

I yelped and cursed as Urameshi let go of my arm, letting me collapse on the floor to hold my elbow.

The nurse was speaking into her walkie, calling security, and Urameshi knelt to check on me.

"Did I fix it?"

"Yeah," I wheezed, feeling warm tears pool in the corners of my eyes. "It hurts like a bitch, oh my god."

Urameshi and I glanced over to the nurse, who was giving out her location.

"You should go," I whispered, and he nodded. "I'll tell you if I find out anything."

He stood up and made his way down the hall as two security officers ran past me. I leaned over, looking past the desk of the nurse's station to see him running away, hands in his pockets.

"Let me at least give you some pain killers for that," the nurse knelt beside me.

"Are you going to charge me for it?"

She stared at me for a while before sighing, and she got up to search behind the desk.

And time slowed, work dragged by as I was relieved on vicodin. Even though I was calm, relieved of pain, everything revolved around the artifacts issue. Everything revolved around my ability to confront Minamino.

Was he an ogre?

The thought plagued me constantly as I lay in bed that night.

Was he a _dangerous_ criminal?

All the next day at work I stared mindlessly at the food that passed by me on the conveyor belt, noticing Shiori hadn't shown up for her usual grocery run. At least the vicodin dulled down my bitchy mental comments while ringing up the garbage.

Would he kill me if I confronted him?

Again, in bed, I connected the dots of what visible stars there were from the bright city skyline in the distance.

Did I _really_ want to get caught up in this?

The thoughts plagued me even as I stared at the new uniform that lay on my bed.

What was the price of a wish being granted? Surely it wouldn't grant a wish for free.

I slipped out of the apartment as I debated on taking another pill to dull the pain in my elbow. Now, it was tolerable. I'd gotten used to it, I could get over the pain for today. It was still sharp… but I didn't want to end up dependent on vicodin.

Locking the door behind me, I dragged myself to school. The cigarette smoke was a way to break in my new uniform and blazer, and I tried thinking about quitting instead of confronting Minamino as I walked to school.

But I laughed and choked on the smoke because I knew that wouldn't happen.

At the shoe lockers, instead of wondering about this issue, I applied the lotion to my neck, wiping the residue on my blazer and its cuffs.

But as I stepped up to our homeroom door, I stood still, hand hovering over the handle, debating.

Did I really want to know?

He associated himself with someone who almost killed my brother. But he was a relatively nice person… And Shiori…

In a fluid motion, opening the door and stepping foot inside, my eyes instantly found the red-head waiting patiently at his desk. For once, he'd arrived before me.

Either walk past him or seal your fate...

Oh, who the fuck was I trying to kid?

I marched up to his desk, planting myself in his line of sight.

"Do you want to explain yourself, _Kurama_?"

Head still rested in hand; a small, apologetic smile grew on his face.

"I'm sure you have some explaining to do, as well."


	9. Toba the Tura

**Let my inflection be crystal clear: this mess that you've made, it's a six-foot grave. It's a home for your lonesome bones that remain.**

—

**—Minamino.**

Shaped brown brows rose in speculation, and I couldn't help but notice how she wouldn't hesitate to keep up appearances despite her family's struggle with money.

"I don't have a damn thing to explain," glossed lips curled back in anger. "You, however, have an assload."

The corner of my lips tugged upwards, and I tried suppressing a smile at her choice of words.

"That watch Urameshi used, it went off when you came around," her words caught me by surprise. "What does that mean?"

If she was working with the Reikai Tantei, she should know how their items worked. Unless…

"So, what does that mean?" Her voice lowered, hissing. "You're an ogre like that Frankenstein guy?"

She wasn't working with him; she hadn't been watching over me as I'd suspected. She'd been dragged into the situation when Minoru's soul had been stolen, and she was nosy enough to continue sticking her nose into this situation after all was said and done.

"No," I couldn't help but laugh a bit in relief, and my calm demeanor had definitely taken her by surprise.

"Then why did that watch go awry when you came up to us?" She pulled the chair from the desk in front of me and sat down.

I still had to be careful, as she was still friends with the Reikai Tantei.

But not only did I owe her an explanation about her brother, and an apology, if I could convince her… Then maybe she could relay it to the boy, and I'd be free to use the mirror tomorrow.

Plum-tipped acrylic nails drummed on the desk, signaling her waiting for me.

"If I bothered to explain it to you," I leaned closer to her, perching my elbows on the desk between us. "Would you believe me?"

She puckered her lips as she searched my face for lies, "Try me."

I figured I should begin to apologize before explaining the situation of my merging. But the door opened before I could begin, revealing her upperclassmen friends.

Hojo turned to the door instantly and muttered under her breath, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

"I didn't know you had other friends, loser," the girl with curled brown hair stepped forward, darting straight for Hojo with her two friends behind her. "At least you're talking to someone attractive."

Hojo turned to face me, and her eyelids fluttered as she leaned over and rubbed her temples, "Don't you have some zits to go pop in the mirror, Natsume?"

"Birth control does wonders," she shoved the conversation away as she stepped up to the desk we sat at. "I would recommend it to you but you're already gaining weight, don't want to get thicker than you already are."

"_Bye_, Natsume," she was curt, prompting Natsume's light brown eyes to flicker towards me.

"If you wanted alone time with your boyfriend, all you had to do was say so," she shrugged, and Hojo's eyes rolled again as she cringed. "I expect to see you during lunch so we can discuss that outburst you had with your homeroom teacher a few days ago."

"Whatever."

"Pull the stick out of your ass when you come around," the black-haired girl waltzed after Natsume as she turned to leave.

"Suck me, Fukui."

And in sequence with the closing door, Hojo slammed her forehead on the desk. Inhaling sharply, her back rose as her lungs filled, and she soon lifted herself up to face me.

"You don't seem to like your friends."

"I hate them. But you're not changing the subject," she rested her chin in her hand. "Spill."

"I've stolen an artifact that will grant me any wish," I replied.

"You want your mother to get better," she nodded, having already known. "But what's the price?"

"The price?" She took me by surprise, sticking her nose far into a place she didn't have to.

"I doubt some evil mirror is going to grant you anything free," she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "If it's for free, hand it over so I can wish for some things."

"I'm not sure," brown eyes didn't buy my lie as they searched my face, and a scowl grew on her.

I had a feeling she'd talk me out of using it, guilt me into living because my mother wouldn't want me to die. So I lied.

Because she would be right; my mother wouldn't want me to die. But there was no other way to save her.

"How did you get it?"

Ah, and there was the question that had the answer I wasn't sure she could handle.

Her eye twitched with annoyance as I found amusement in the reality that she may not be able to believe what I would tell her.

"How do I know you won't repeat what I say?"

I owed her an apology, but I wanted to make sure while I was still alive and had to attend Meiou that I wouldn't have to deal with her loud mouth. But then, not many would believe her anyways.

She scoffed, crossing her arms defensively, "I know _when_ to keep my mouth shut. There's a reason why nobody knows why Nakamura's going in a downward spiral with her social status."

"And why's that?" The test was simple, but it proved she thought about things that came out of her mouth.

"There are some things that just don't need to be said," she cocked her head slightly, almost birdlike.

I guess omitting the truth didn't count as lying.

"What do you know already?"

Her eyes fell to the desk, tongue in cheek, "Ogre's and ghosts and the Reikai. Urameshi's a detective for the Reikai."

A moment of silence ensued, and I heard the footsteps in the hallway as more students arrived. Better to tell her before students come in; give her time to think about what I've said. Worse come to worst, she wouldn't be verbal when she attacked me.

She was one more person I had to convince to let me keep the mirror. If I could convince her, she could sway the Reikai Tantei if he was thinking otherwise.

"'Minamino, Shuichi' is my alias in the Ningenkai," her eyebrows rose in speculation again, jaw slightly dropping with each word. "My true form was a youko, and I specialized in thievery. My skills, despite having not used them in a while, allowed me to break into the Reikai's vault, and take the artifacts your partner is after."

Her brows furrowed as I continued, "I was the one that initiated the stealing of the artifacts, asking for the company of Gōki and another demon, Hiei."

"So it's your fault," her shoulders shook as she tried to keep herself composed.

"I didn't intend for you to get mixed up in this, Hojo. It wasn't intentional for Minoru to become Gōki's victim. I was only looking out for my mother's best interest."

The door slid open and a few students poured in. Hojo stood up instantly, eyes glued to me in anger, slack-jawed, brows furrowed. She kicked her leg back, sending the chair flying into the desk behind her as she moved a few desks over to her assigned seat. After having attracted the attention of everyone, she sat down, and kept her eyes glued to the blackboard.

For the duration of homeroom, she never once looked back or opened her mouth.

I had apologized, and I expected her to succumb to rage and attack me. But she kept herself more composed than I thought she would, and it felt off.

Even in the second class we held together, fourth hour, she kept herself distanced, though she was noticeably occupied with what I told her. I had apologized, and I had to wait for her uncontrollable reaction, but this was tame. Luckily, not a person who'd witnessed her act confronted me about it.

But I continued to debate on if she was still useful in this situation. Perhaps I should focus solely on the Reikai Tantei.

I was still convinced she held some influence on him, and decided to continue my pursuit in having her help. That could be unwise, as I could provoke her anger. I still didn't know if she was the type to only take her anger out on others, or if she lashed out on herself as well.

As I walked up to the roof during fifth hour, towards the fire exit, I could smell her usual scent of cucumber, and the thick smell of cigarettes from behind the door.

She sat against the wall of the fire exit; talking to the girl she wasn't fond of this morning.

"I can't believe—" Natsume's laughter caused her to choke on the smoke in her throat. After a minute of dangerous coughing, she composed herself. "I can't _fucking_ believe you called Suzuki-sensei a fat sack of shit."

"Because he's a goddamn idiot," Hojo was calm, her thoughts were noticeably elsewhere. "Seriously, 'go to the Dean's office or change'—change into what? My clothes were in my apartment when it burned down."

"I'm surprised you didn't assault him."

"Yeah, I took my anger out on someone else."

"The boy you were talking to this morning?" She wasn't as stupid as I thought she was.

"Yeah."

"He seems strange," Natsume's words kept me behind the door, eavesdropping on their conversation. "I get this weird feeling around him, and no—not like that, bitch."

Hojo spoke up after a few seconds, "You may just feel strange since his red hair's natural… but… he's alright, I guess."

I wasn't sure if she meant that or if she was trying to keep her anger tied down in front of the other girl.

"Maybe."

Hojo's defense for my secret prompted me to open the door. Natsume's mumbles of "shit" could be heard as the two girls quickly put out their cigarettes.

"Oh, it's just you," Hojo hung her head with a relieved sigh as Natsume placed her hand over her heart.

"I was going to visit my mother early today," I side-glanced to Natsume, who looked at me with interest. "I was wondering if you'd like to come."

Hojo's brown eyes searched my face curiously, and she picked up her box of cigarettes before grabbing her satchel.

"I'll see you later," Hojo nodded to Natsume as she walked next to me, heading towards the fire exit.

"Remember, babe, you use condoms during oral, too. They have banana flavor!"

Hojo groaned at Natsume's teasing and slammed the door behind us.

"Don't flatter yourself," she grumbled. "She'll do that to any guy I walk away with."

"I'll take your word for it."

She glanced up to me as we continued to descend the stairs, changing the subject.

She was trying to compose herself still, taking a deep breath before asking, "Are we really going to see Shiori?"

I nodded, returning her stare, "Yes, but I was hoping we could bring along your partner."

"Urameshi? If you can find him, go ahead."

"I have his scent," I reassured her as we exited the building. "It shouldn't be too hard to find him."

"If you're lucky, he'll be at school," she scoffed and ignored my comment about following his scent. "I doubt it, though."

We continued our walk to the junior high, but when I rounded the corner to the train station, she continued heading straight.

Within steps, she realized where I was going.

"I'm not getting on a fucking train," she snapped.

"It will take less time than walking there."

"Ask me if I care."

"We could lose him if we don't arrive before school lets out," I ignored her taunt and became curious, because her anger was beginning to spill out.

Did she not like trains? Or was her anger merely overflowing and finally ready to burst? She'd lasted longer than I expected.

Her nose scrunched slightly as she scowled, and she growled as she walked past me, walking in front of me to the train station.

The cars weren't as crowded as they normally were, seeing as how it wasn't four yet. It was still companied by many, though Hojo worked her way through the crowd of people in the car to the seats, where two young men were seated, ditching their last hour as well.

"Get the fuck up," she snapped.

I didn't feel like having to save her from two punks, but then again if she wanted to unleash her anger on someone else I wasn't going to stop her.

The two boys snorted and laughed, "How about you just sit on our laps, lady? Sit and spin."

One of the boys flipped her off, and she growled through clenched teeth.

"If you don't get the fuck up I will castrate you and shove your tiny dicks in your mouths, hang your mutilated bodies from the train, and let your disgusting carcasses carry throughout the railroad system."

The boys looked at her with surprise, processing what she'd just said and a quick retort back, but it was too late.

"So when I tell you something, you do it," her voice was raising, attracting the view of everyone in the car.

But then boys stayed in their seats, still waiting for an opening.

"So g_et the fuck up_," she screamed in their faces, and the two boys scrambled out of their seats with their hands over their ears, mimicking everyone else in the car.

She sat down, plopping in the boy's previous seat without even a smug victory smile as the boys made their way down the aisle.

I waited to sit next to her as everyone kept their eyes on her, as I didn't want to be associated with her. She was obviously upset over my actions; the last thing I would do was provoke her again. It was a hassle, and I didn't want to deal with her rage.

The train ride was silent for the first stop, instead of focusing on the issue at hand she toyed with her make-up. Taking in small details around me was slightly refreshing, as I anticipated tomorrow, the full moon. I wouldn't live to see another day after tomorrow, so watching a human girl apply make-up was almost enjoyable.

Applying eye shadow to fill in her eyebrows, she turned towards me.

"Are my eyebrows too dark?"

Only someone with low self-esteem would continuously apply make-up in anticipation of visiting someone who was dying in the hospital.

I took caution in answering her, the possibility that even my tone could set her off was prominent.

"No," I guess I figured a compliment would soothe her slightly, even just enough to hold off her anger for a few minutes more. "You look better without make-up."

Her shaped eyebrows rose in surprise, and I anticipated the wrath to come with her silence. But after a second of staring at me, she produced a strange, proud smile.

"Then it's a good thing I don't wear make-up to please you, isn't it?"

The train jerked to a stop as I was taken back, not expecting such a response.

"This is the stop," she shoved her pink make-up bag into her satchel before standing up. "C'mon."

* * *

**—Aiko.**

I knew he was just being nice, but I couldn't help but shoot down his compliment. It was _such_ a crazy notion for a girl to wear make-up for herself, and not for men—or anyone for that matter.

Hell, he deserved to have his compliments handed back to him. Piece of shit was the reason my little brother's in the hospital.

No, it wasn't his fault. He helped cause it… but he wasn't the one that put him in the hospital.

If he didn't even bother stealing the damn thing in the first place, none of this would have happened.

Lucky for him, I was able to take some of my rage out on those two punks. The only reason I didn't beat them over the head with my satchel was because my arm still hurt. But the rage began to build again, suffocating my chest and pressuring my lungs. My head began to throb as I remembered my current dilemma.

No, calm down. He was only trying to save his mother.

But the fucker hurt people in the process.

No, it wasn't his intention.

I inhaled, trying to calm myself, and focused on his attempt to compliment me earlier.

I began to feel guilty as we continued our walk to Sarayashiki. I turned around, walking backwards, and grabbed his attention.

"Thanks, though," he watched me curiously as I continued to walk backwards, and finally, he spoke up.

"Watch out for the lamppost."

Having learned my lesson last time, I stopped walking all together before turning around and moving out of the way.

Our walk was silent until we reached Sarayashiki in time to find student's pouring out of the front gate. I tried most of the time we spent waiting to not wrap my hands around his neck and choke him to death.

"Is he even here?" I leaned against the stone wall, watching kids coming out of the main entrance. "Can you smell him?"

The two of us exchanged glances, both surprised I acknowledged his supposed abilities. I was honestly convinced this was the prank of the year—well, I wanted to be convinced.

But with the ogre and the ghosts and the souls…

"He's here," Minamino nodded towards the entrance, and I found Urameshi lugging his lazy butt out of school.

"Well, I'll be damned!" I called loud enough for slick hair to hear me, walking in front of Minamino towards the boy who still hadn't changed into the right uniform. "You actually went to school today!"

"I've been going to school for a while now," he shoved his face in mine, an ugly grimace spread across his face. "It's not like I ditch _every_ day."

"Your girlfriend's been dragging you here by the ear, hasn't she?" I snickered.

"Why are you here?" He gave up, not wanting to argue over whether he and Keiko were together.

I stepped aside, allowing Minamino to grace his line of sight, feeling like Vanna White.

"Kurama?" Urameshi seemed shocked, almost surprised, as if he'd forgotten about Minamino's promise.

"We had an appointment today," Minamino stepped up to Urameshi, and I watched the black-haired boy scratch the back of his neck and stifle a laugh. "I was supposed to return the mirror today."

He _had _forgotten about his promise!

"Dumbass!" I rammed my good elbow into Urameshi's side, and he recoiled, bending over to hold his side.

Urameshi opened his mouth to start a verbal argument with me, but Minamino cut him off.

"Before I return the treasure, I'd like you to meet someone."

Urameshi's gaze turned from Minamino to mine, and I nodded a silent confirmation that it should be safe. I didn't think Minamino would be the type to backstab or betray.

Especially after he outed himself to me with everything. Besides, if he wanted to do something, I was sure he would have attacked me already.

And luckily, I was right.

Urameshi nudged me as we stepped inside the hospital, remembering that he got in trouble here and he still may have been, and I nudged him back silently, more annoyed that he'd touched me.

We hurried through the hospital walls, avoiding as much personnel as possible. Surprisingly, Shiori's room was on the same level as Minoru's, and I had to be quick walking past his room since I felt guilty about not visiting him while I was here. But my guilt washed away as we entered Shiori's room, and sadness replaced my feelings quickly.

She looked much worse than when I'd seen her last.

Urameshi nudged me again and I shoved my good elbow into his side.

"It's so rare to see you bring a friend over," Shiori seemed happy, a tired smile on her face as she saw Urameshi and me. "I haven't seen you in so long, Aiko, how have you been?"

"Fine," I always answered with that, and I probably always would.

"You should be lying down, mother," Minamino seemed curt, much different than how he used to talk to her.

"Mother?" Urameshi's surprise whispered into my ear, and I nodded.

"But I'm feeling better today," her protests went unnoticed as her son grabbed an apple from the nightstand. But she continued anyways, "I don't have much of an appetite, dear."

"Nonsense, you won't recover if you don't eat anything healthy."

"Okay, okay," Shiori laughed, giving in as she leaned back against the headrest. "You've become so strict lately, Shuichi."

I glanced over to Urameshi, who was utterly confused, and he whispered, "What the hell's going on here?"

I walked away, grabbing another chair to sit next to Shiori, opposite Minamino, and gestured for Urameshi to sit next to us. Mild conversations that seemed to drift in and out every so often as she seemed to lose focus. As Urameshi seemed to get the hint of why Minamino had the mirror, Minamino excused himself and slick hair, off to discuss business about the mirror.

"Are you leaving with them, Aiko?" Shiori turned her gaze towards me, and I was dying to go.

I wanted to know what they'd work out together, what compromise they would come to.

Urameshi and Minamino waited in the doorway, both knew I was dying to tag along and listen to what would happen.

"No," I turned back towards Shiori. "I'll keep you company, they have dumb boy things to talk about. It gets old after a while."

I kept my eyes on Shiori as I waved the boys away, and they disappeared into the hallway.

"When are you getting discharged?" I may not be able to console, but I could lie. "You're looking better."

"I'm not sure," I had to change the subject; since her sad smile turned her gaze to the sheets she was covered in. "They don't think I'll last longer."

I doubt she told Minamino that, but it didn't matter since he already knew.

"You want me to draw you a picture?"

Curious black eyebrows rose and I dug in my satchel for a loose-leaf paper and pencil.

"I didn't know you could draw," she propped herself up straight as I placed the paper upon a thin textbook.

Ha, other than counting calories and obsessing over my body image, drawing was the only thing I was good at.

"Do you have any drawings with you?"

I shook my head as I began a rough sketch, simple lines, quickly putting down the outline of the bed she lay in. It would be sloppy and not my best work, but it would come out decent enough.

"My sketchbook and art supplies were in my old apartment," I replied as an older man waddled inside the room, blush covered his face.

"Hello, Shiori," his hands found their way to the back of his neck, this old man was nervous around Shiori. He turned to me when I was noticed and nodded his head towards me, "Hello, Miss."

"This is Aiko," she introduced me and I nodded in return, watching him take Minamino's seat. "She's a friend of Shuichi's. Aiko, this is Hatanaka, Kazuya."

"Ah! I've heard about you from Shiori before. It's nice to meet you," his smile was genuine despite his haste to return the conversation to Shiori.

The poor old guy was head over heels for her.

"Likewise," I let the man return to Shiori.

My hands kept working, jotting down lines to replicate Shiori's frame, and I glanced up once more to watch the two converse.

"I was going through some old resumes today," he said. "We kept some of the funniest resumes we've seen."

Shiori stifled a laugh, as if she would break out into a coughing fit if she allowed herself comedic relief, "Share."

He recited his favorite off the top of his head, "Please don't be discouraged about my having ten jobs in the past year. I have not job-hopped, and I have never quit."

I snorted as Shiori let out a light giggle, and I took advantage of their happiness to continue laying out a rough sketch of their portrait together. I blended into the background of their conversation, not minding in the least, as I particularly enjoyed watching their interactions.

It was obvious they were dating—or, at least, he had the hots for her. I felt I had a good layout of his nervous habits sketched on the paper, with his hand rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous smile as he looked away from her, staring down at the sheets.

And as their conversation continued, I was ready to ink in the rough sketch to smooth the outline, but Hatanaka's frantic repeating of Shiori's name caught my attention. Shiori had momentarily dozed off, but was now hyperventilating, which would only prompt—

Conscious, she began coughing and retched her body forward, chucking blood onto the white sheets.

Panicking, Hatanaka froze and I shot up from the chair to take charge—as if I knew what I was doing. It was better than staying around doing nothing and panicking, though I couldn't blame him. The heart monitor was frantic, off the charts as she began to hyperventilate.

"Go get a doctor!" I took hold of Shiori's shoulders, helping her lay on her side so she wouldn't choke on her blood.

He ran out of the room, fetching help, and within seconds a nurse and two residents rushed inside.

"She's in v-tach," I stepped aside as the two residents took charge, spouting orders. "Get the crash cart."

One of the residents paged a nurse as the doctor rushed inside, "Get me one milligram of EPI."

"She needs to be intubated."

Hatanaka, still frantic, was beginning to crack.

"Go get Minamino," I guided him out of the room to let the residents do their work. "Tell him what's wrong with his mom."

He was the one that should have been down here waiting, but it'd be better for him to occupy himself. I paced around in front of the room, hearing the residents orders.

Oh god, what if she doesn't live?

That's what the mirror was for, though, to save her.

What did it want in return? He was lying when he said he didn't know. That second _too_ long pause…

After a few minutes, Hatanaka came running down the hallway, sweating and panting, with Minamino and Urameshi at his side.

And the next two hours, we waited while she was in critical condition, her body only failing to combat her illness. The four of us waited outside the room in silence for hours, waiting for someone to tell us what we all knew would happen.

"She's crashing, her heart isn't stabilizing," the doctor that had been inside her room the past two hours exited slowly, pulling off the surgical mask he'd been wearing as a precaution. "Tonight's going to be critical for her; she's in an unstable state now."

The four of us stayed silent, eyes on the doctor, unsure of what to say. But the moment the doctor returned to Shiori's room, Minamino began his way back to the rooftop, Urameshi followed quickly behind.

I stood up, curious, but Urameshi looked back towards me and nodded to Hatanaka. I should stay as company for him. Even if we didn't speak, it was better than being alone.

He kept himself relatively composed for the situation, especially for being much closer to Shiori than I was. I sat down next to him as he clasped his hands together, jaw tensed shut. I wondered how long they'd been together; he seemed to care about her as if they'd known each other for years.

I wasn't able to think of a consoling thing to say to him, so I kept my mouth shut and pondered on what Minamino would be doing upon the roof with the mirror. What did it want in return?

Because if it was something I could accommodate, I'd snatch that mirror up in a heartbeat when he was finished with it.

But what could a mirror want? It was a mirror; it had no use for material items or wealth…

Of course, a mirror that grants your every wish, no matter how selfish or selfless, would want only one thing. If you desired the wish enough to have it granted…

Motherfu—

I shot up from the chair and darted to the fire exit stairs. I pushed myself up to the roof, hating myself for not quitting cigarettes—but god knows I'd smoke one after this mess was over. The floor below the roof, the door was wide open, and Urameshi's voice could be heard from above.

"Hey, mirror! Take part of my life instead of his!"

Oh, _no_ you didn't, Urameshi. You just came back to life, are you fucking serious?!

"That way you can still fulfill the wish without killing him, right?!"

You better hope so, you idiot.

I pushed through the door on the roof, finding the two boys huddled together, feet away, with electricity wrapped around them.

What if the mirror was selfish? What if it took both of their lives?

"Are you insane?!" Minamino's body turned, albeit rigidly, to meet Urameshi's face.

You two idiots both are insane!

"I've seen a mother crying over her son's death!" Urameshi, if you wanted to stop him with some logic like this, it would have been nice like, five minutes ago before you started this crap. "It's horrible; I'm not going to let it happen again!"

I ran towards the two boys, electricity still covering their bodies, and reached out my leg to kick the two of them so they'd topple over and away from the mirror. But the electricity vanished as my foot connected with Urameshi's head, sending him into Minamino, and the two fell lifeless on the ground next to each other.

I stood over the mirror, watching the two boys whose chests weren't rising or falling, and dropped to my knees in front of Minamino.

I dug my hands underneath his arm and used all my strength to roll him over on his back so I could scream in his face. "_Get the hell up_!"

I grabbed his collar, frantic, shaking him with all my strength. Oh, god, if Shiori lives and finds her son dead who knows what she'd do.

All anger I held for him had disappeared at the moment.

"Get up!" I screamed in his face once more as his head hung back from its weight. I pulled my open palm back, ready to lay one right on his cheek, "Get up or Shiori will hate you forever for what you did, you idiot!"

As if that was all I had to say to begin with, his eyes opened, and green irises situated themselves to focus on me. Relieved, I let go of his collar and he dropped, catching himself before his head made contact with the ground.

Without a word, Minamino got up to make his way to make sure his mother was recovered. And though I was interested and hopeful that the mirror was generous enough to spare their lives, I had to make sure Urameshi's stupid ass was fine as well.

"_Get the hell up, you idiot_!" I gripped his collar as I had Minamino's and lifted him up to slap him across the face. The flesh on flesh impact stung my palm as his face swung about with each slap I laid down, "You're the biggest idiot I've ever met in my life! Coming back to life to fucking risk it! How stupid can you get?!"

And just as Minamino's eyes opened and focused on me, so did Urameshi's. But I wasn't nearly as relieved as I was furious.

"You're the biggest idiot I've ever met!" I'd all but melted his face off with my shouting.

He laughed nervously, wide grin across his face as he rubbed his left cheek, "I couldn't help but interfere because of the situation. Now that I think about it… that was scary."

"Oh my god," I let go of his collar, letting him fall as I deadpanned. "The Reikai has chosen you as its detective. Oh my fucking god."

"What's that supposed to mean?!" He shot up, getting in my face.

"It means you hadn't even thought that through! You could have died! All that work to come back would have been useless! It would mean nothing!"

"But I didn't die," his simplicity…

I whined and fell backwards, lying on the cold ground as he got the second treasure he'd been looking for.

"Come on, _partner_," it was obviously a joke, as it would be ludicrous to ask someone as physically and spiritually weak as me to accompany him on missions.

Minamino must have mentioned his suspicion about me to Urameshi, and Urameshi probably laughed hard enough to knock his brain around into jumping into that situation without thinking.

"No, don't even joke like that, man…" I took his extended hand and he helped me up. "God, today... Today was a rollercoaster."

"You can say that again," Urameshi scoffed as he rubbed his cheek, taking the mirror in his other hand. "I wonder how his mom's doing."

And soon we were waiting outside the room as the door was wide open, showing Shiori's recovering state.

Urameshi hid his body behind the wall, leaning in to check on Shiori, while I stood in the doorway, watching Hatanaka and Minamino hover over her.

I didn't know if I should have been furious about him wanting to end his life and leave Shiori alone to live without her precious son. God, the stuff she'd tell me about him, how she'd talk about him… He was her world.

But I'd confront him another time, both about this situation and his stupidity of this whole mess, because the swelling of relief and happiness in my chest was too good a feeling to lose.


	10. Hurricane Jane

**—Minamino.**

"You insensitive dick!"

I dodged the satchel that was flying towards my face, finding Hojo running up to me and putting her hair into a tight ponytail as she crossed the small neighborhood street. The cigarette smoke exiting from her nostrils only emphasized her anger.

Over the weekend, I'd spent time helping my mother adjust back home. The doctors said it was a miracle how someone with a heart in her condition could survive over the period of a few hours after being in critical condition. They insisted on keeping her for close watch, to see if she'd relapsed, but since I knew the mirror had fulfilled my wish, I merely had to find a time alone with the doctor to slip some powder under his nose.

With transferring some of my youki into the plant's powder, I was able to erase and recreate some memories, convincing him that my mother's condition wasn't at the fatal stage. Having such conviction that he knew her condition wasn't fatal, there was no need to look at the chart.

With that, she was discharged. And all the while, I'd completely forgotten about the girl and how I'd endangered her younger brother.

But, bright and early two days later, she hadn't forgotten. Perhaps I figured all was said and done since she'd acted out on Friday on the train, but I was wrong as she had obviously just suppressed her anger and let it bottle up over the weekend.

"Where is your fucking brain?"

Fists flew my way, and though it was easy to dodge her attacks, it was troublesome. I had to find a way to hold her off without harming or touching her.

"Seriously, what's wrong with you?"

We were in the street of a residential neighborhood, and at this rate we'd both be late for class. But her anger took me by surprise as her face was more flushed than usual. From this angle, it stood out brightly in contrast to the clear blue sky.

She'd been harboring that anger all weekend, and the only other release of her emotions besides physical actions was crying.

"You think you can just do anything you want and it doesn't affect anyone else?!"

Instead of aiming for my face, her fist went lower, aiming for my groin. Jerking my body to the side, I avoided her, but she kept coming full throttle.

"Do you know how much his bills cost?! We were already struggling with just _my_ fucking problems! Now we have medical bills to pay!"

At this point she wasn't aiming her punches, she was blindly swinging.

"And then your mom!" Her screaming was almost incomprehensible at this point. "You were going to leave her alone! Do you even know what we talked about?"

I didn't know how much longer she would be able to keep up this screaming without tearing her throat.

"About you! She talked about _you_! You're her fucking life and you were going to off yourself and leave her alone to rot!"

As she swung an open palm at my cheek, I realized there currently wasn't another way to calm her. I grabbed a hold of her wrist just inches before it connected.

Her breathing hitched as she coughed, having wrung her throat raw, and I figured she would stop. But, just seconds later, I was proven wrong.

"Let me go!" Her screech could have broken my ear drums. "Stop touching me!"

"Not until you stop swinging," but my reply only prompted kicks as I grabbed onto her other wrist she swung at me.

Touching her only escalated the problem, and though it was still easy to move out of the way of her attacks, it was still a hassle.

"Stop touching me!"

Our shoes scuffled against the concrete as I moved her onto the stone wall against the sidewalk to steady her.

"Stop swinging," tears streaming down her bare face only caused my demand to seem harsher than intended.

And she curled up, yanking her hands away from me. I let go as she pressed her back against the wall, sliding down to the ground.

"I told you before, it wasn't my intention to have your brother become a victim," she shook her head at my words, face towards the ground.

"Just because it wasn't your intention doesn't mean it's not your fault," she inhaled, sniffling, as she stared up to me.

She hadn't worn any make-up today, which was a surprise.

"I get it, I do," she hiccupped, voice coarse. "You just wanted to help your mom. But you didn't fucking _think_!"

And my incipient feelings of being annoyed wavered as she continued.

"You didn't think of what that would do? Giving an item like that to someone who was known for eating kids souls? _Really_?"

Tongue in cheek, I watched her wipe her eyes.

"Now they're keeping him in the hospital to check him periodically," her lashes became thick and wet, clogging the view of her eyes as she cried up to me. "The bills just keep piling up! Why didn't you think?"

This was closer to the reaction I had expected from her on Friday, though the waterworks was much more than I'd anticipated. Though, truth be told, I owed it to her.

I turned my back to the wall and sat down next to her as she hugged her knees to her chest, burying her face as she tried clearing her throat.

"I don't want to have to drop out…" Her muffled cry caused me to inhale deep, knowing that my response would only have her bite my head off.

"The reason why I asked for company when breaking into the vault was for backup," I said. "It had been over fifteen years since I stole something of that worth."

"That doesn't change the fact that this shitstorm happened," she cried. "You didn't think far enough."

"I felt I didn't need to think far ahead because I wouldn't have been alive to care."

I braced myself, feeling for her actions, but no fists ever came. Instead, there were small, muffled sobs.

"I don't want to have to drop out…"

The only way I could make this up to her would be to go back in time and prevent Gōki from taking Minoru's soul.

"Hojo," from the corner of my eyes, she didn't bother looking up, her body only kept hitching as she cried.

It seemed insignificant compared to the situation, but my hands were tied, as there was nothing else I could do.

"I'm sorry."

"What are we going to do?" She cried, and it took me a moment to realize she wasn't talking about us, but her family. "I don't know what to do…"

Having no answer, and knowing anything I said would be inappropriate, I stayed quiet as she lifted her head up and rested it on the stone wall. Then, she swung her balled fist back, slamming it into the wall behind her. The repeated dull thuds against the concrete reminded me of the night I saw her shin, and I realized she did lash out on herself. Quickly, I set my palm out in her hand's path and let her fist into my palm, since her skin would probably have broken on that impact.

Giving up, she retrieved her hands and clasped them together as they shook, turning white from lack of blood flow.

She scowled to keep herself from crying, pursing her lips together. She sniffed, unclogging the unholy amount of mucus that had lodged itself in her nostrils.

But it occurred to me as I saw the skin of her neck pulsate as she inhaled, sinking inwards underneath her jaw with each heavy, unsteady breath.

"When is your next weigh in?" I knew it wasn't right to encourage her behavior, but now it was all I could offer.

One less bill to pay would help her, and she knew that better than I did.

Brown eyes, red scleras, and puffy lids looked up to me with curiosity, "Wednesday. Why…?"

She cleared her throat as I continued, "When do you get discharged?"

Her voice was getting clearer with each small cough, "If I can pass this goal weight and the next… I can get out of there in a few weeks."

"I can help you fake your weight those days," I said, running through my mind which plants would be best to mix with a concoction.

"Really? How?" Her voice caught in her throat, breaking. "With plants? It won't make me fat for long, will it?"

"I can make some sort of food or drink," I nodded, figuring the best plants that would help her bloat with enough water weight to push the scales up after transferring some youki into them. "It should wear off after a few days of consumption."

"Summer break starts next week," she sighed in relief and rested her head on the wall. "I can work longer shifts or get another job, and if the appointments stop then things will get easier…"

I didn't think I should be encouraging her to get out of the counseling appointments, but they obviously hadn't worked so far. They were paying to see no improvement in her health, merely ways for her to think around their system.

"Don't back out of this," she wiped her eyes again as she reached for her satchel, that had fallen close by.

"I won't," I reassured her. "It's the least I can do for putting another payment on your family."

"Damn fucking right it is," I ignored her mumble as she leaned over on the ground to reach for her bag.

And as she sat up, I was ready to leave. But before I could stand and tell her when to meet me for the vile, her fingers wrapped onto my sleeve and tugged.

"Sit next to me for a few," it was a demand, not a question.

Though I didn't feel like taking orders, from a weak human girl at that, I decided I owed her this much as well. Because after she was released from the counseling appointments, I wouldn't owe her anything.

I sat next to her as she dug out a bag of make-up from her satchel, the same one she used on the train. It was pink, with black polka dots on it, contrasting with her plum manicure as she held onto it.

Fanning her face, hoping her puffy eyelids would relieve themselves, I waited patiently for her to begin her regimen. It was strangely interesting, to be honest, as I'd never seen my mother apply make-up, and females in class never did their full routine.

After using her sleeve to wipe her face dry, she dipped the skin of the tips of her fingers into the small round container. She dabbed it on various parts of her face before smearing it around, blending it into her skin tone.

"What's your make-up routine?" She managed a feeble grin as she pulled out another container and put the first away. She was trying to make me forget about her temper tantrum as she pushed powder on her face, "Those lashes can't be real."

I inhaled sharply at her comment, insinuating I was feminine, but composed myself as she pulled out a mirror and a smaller container with a thinner brush.

"I'm sure you're jealous," I retorted calmly as she scoffed, brushing brown powder into her eyebrows.

"Fucking _totally_," she snorted out laughter. "Let me teach you how to do your make-up."

"No thank you."

"Look, you use a base first," she grinned, pulling out a, yet again, even smaller container. "For your eyelids."

She quickly dabbed it before running it around her eyelids to her brow-bone, and then dug out a small pallet of colors.

"Now this is your eye shadow," she held it up as if she was on TV selling it. "You could be a… soft, natural color, more pastel. Like a soft brown. See this one? It's brown but has a small hint of pink in it."

Did she not know the name, or was her mind too jumbled now?

"You're not good with colors, are you?"

"Coming from you, with your red hair and cerise uniform," she rolled her eyes as she chose the color she'd just recommended me. "Fucking fashion disaster."

"I'm honored to be called that by a clown."

"Bite me," she snapped, running the brush above her eyelids and under her brow-bone.

She continued playing with the shades of brown, applying two more shades before pulling out a brown pencil and smudging it on the outer corners of her eyes, blending it in.

"First period started, by the way," I mentioned to her as she maneuvered a brush around on her eyelids again.

"That fat fuck can suck my asshole for all I care," she began dragging another pencil above her lash- and waterlines, framing her eyes in black.

"You've such a charming way with words."

"_Oh_ my god. You are so unbearable with your obnoxious sarcasm."

"Then I'm assuming I can take my leave."

"Nope," she pulled out a thick, small rod, and untwisted the cap. "You're stuck till I'm done. All I have now is the mascara."

"How long does it normally take you to paint your face on every day?"

She rolled her eyes at my comment.

"_This_ is sloppy," she used the small wand to point at her eyes, which looked as clean as they often did every day I saw her. "And I haven't even done everything I normally do, which usually it takes about a good twenty minutes."

"It's felt that long," I sighed.

"It's only been, like, seven," she dragged the wand over her eyelashes a few times before shoving the cap back on and putting everything away. "By the way."

I waited as she situated herself and stood up, and I followed her actions as she patted dust off the back her skirt.

"When I tell you to stop touching me—stop touching me."

"In my defense, you wouldn't stop swinging."

"Okay," she nodded, taking that into account. "But when I say stop—stop."

The girl was willing to put her hands on others, but God forbid anyone touch her.

With forbearance, I obliged, "Fair enough."

She inhaled slightly and then grimaced as she placed her hand on her stomach, and I could hear the growling of it being upset. She looked sick, as if she was about to vomit.

I inched away from her as she leaned onto the wall, not enjoying the thought of vomit on my clothes. But she composed herself with a large, deep breath, and straightened up.

And she bounced back to the girl I saw in class, in the hallways. The bored girl who stuck her nose into everyone's business, even though nobody's rumors or secrets ever seemed to faze her.

Until now.

"C'mon, let's get to class," she walked past me, and before following her, I watched her form continue ahead of me.

She was strange.

"I'm not walking by myself this morning," she turned around and placed her hand on her hip. "I didn't hunt your ass down for nothing."

Very strange.

* * *

**—Aiko.**

"How'd Keiko take the explanations and all that?" I asked, watching Urameshi walk down the aisle towards me.

The grocery store was homey, with the off-white colors on the wall occasionally striped horizontally with an orange-tinted beige. The shelves were faux-wood, holding a light brown to blend in with the surroundings. The floor was tiled in white, and was mopped down so often it always seemed to shine bright. Sometimes, if I could catch the tiles just when they dried before someone walked over them, I could see a faint reflection of myself.

On the back wall in the middle of the thick stripe, blocked in white and closer to the ceiling, was the store's name in painted kanji and hiragana, bolded in black, "_Mizuho's Foods and Company_."

"I never got to explain anything," he cocked his head back with a grumble, and I turned to see him walking towards me, company name above him in the distance.

"So, what? Why are you here when you could be explaining things to her?"

Keiko was left in the dark about this whole supernatural subject, and after what Urameshi had just told me about her meeting with Botan about a half hour ago, he should have been hunting her down instead of goofing off with me.

"Because I'm supposed to be writing a book report."

"_Supposed to be_."

"Yup."

"Not happening, I guess," I sighed, shoving another can on the shelf. "Don't you even want to graduate junior high? Come on, that's like the minimum for Japan."

"Don't care. This is probably the most boring job I've seen," Urameshi changed the subject and walked up behind me as I restocked the shelf in front of me.

My stomach churned, having eaten a large breakfast today since my mother stayed home later than normal. Her presence basically forced me to shove down a whopping one _thousand _calories. And that wasn't sitting well with me at all today... plus that little scuffle I created with Minamino earlier on the way to school had a part in my upset stomach.

"I've seen worse," I had to stop myself from vomiting all over the floor as I grabbed another can of soup from the cart next to me. "Like being a librarian. That's gotta be boring... rearranging textbooks all day. Besides, doing something like this is what you'll be doing all day everyday if you don't graduate from junior high."

"Shut up, you're in high school and you're working here," he leaned on the shelf next to me as I decided to take a minute break. After my skeptical look he changed the subject, "Besides, being a librarian must be boring. Unless they have porn mags."

"They can't have porn mags at a public library," I turned around and mimicked him, leaning on the shelf.

"Exactly why it's boring."

"God, you are _such_ the charmer. A knight in shining armor. Keiko is, like, the luckiest girl alive to have you."

His sly grin appeared as he nudged me with his elbow, and I shoved him, forcing him to hold on the shelf for dear life.

"So how's the search for the last artifact?" I watched as he steadied himself.

"No dice, I got three days left before the King of the Reikai shows up and finds out they've been stolen."

"What happens if he—"

A loud, tuned whistle sounded behind me. It was the kind of whistle trainers used to command dogs, or, more likely for me, the kind of whistle that my boss used to order me around.

"Hey, Stray Cat," my alpha-male, god complex boss made his way to me down the aisle, addressing me by my cashier number. "Number _oh-two-oh-two-three._"

Oh god, here we go. I could feel my eyes permanently rolling into the back of my head as my back and shoulders slumped over dramatically.

"What now," I groaned a rhetorical question I didn't want answered, feeling my stomach churn from knowing what was to come.

His incessant rant began with melodramatic, pseudo-interest in his words. Some syllables with emphasized dramatics as he approached us, cradling his clipboard against his chest and a forced grin.

"_Con_gratulations on the wedding, you two. I'm so, so, so, _so_ upset you didn't invite me to the ceremony but I guess I'll _just_ have to make due," my eyes were going to get stuck in the back of my head. "But, Aiko, answer me this. Do I pay you by the hour to stand around by the canned soup to talk to your doll faced wife here?"

"Well, for the past twenty minutes, uh, yeah. You pretty much did."

"What'd this greasy haired jerk call me?" Urameshi straightened his posture to become domineering but I put the back of my hand on his chest and side glanced up to him.

"Don't worry; he just likes to hear himself talk."

And my boss whistled again, bringing both our eyes back to him.

Typical pose: arms across his chest with the clipboard tucked up against it, back straightened, eager smile to tear me a new one.

"So instead of talking about your girl's wedding day, and what lovely doilies you had on the guests tables—and _please_, for the love of god, don't talk about what band you had play because I will be just so, so, _so_ crushed—I suggest you get back to work and do what I pay you to—"

"Move canned soup onto a shelf."

"In the past five minutes you've been ranting to her, you could've just told her to get back to work and spared us this entire macho act," Urameshi snorted.

"Then he wouldn't be able to hear his beautiful voice, Urameshi."

"_Pre_cisely," his grin was _so_ proud, as not many people fed into his games. "Now, quit canoodling, you two. Do you need me to spell it out for you?"

My boss's hands gestured the clipboard back and forth between him and I, and then from me to the shelves.

I slopped my tongue out, slurring my word to play brain dead, "Nuh-uh I gotsth it."

"And don't even think for a _second_ that I don't watch you swipe a pack of cigarettes and other items in the store. You may have your little entitlement complex going on but you know damn sure and well that I better not catch you swiping any meat or we will have such, such, _such _a problem."

I kept my tongue slopped out, "If you didn't want me to take anything you should have said something."

"Is that a threat?" Urameshi and his macho act.

It was two macho men feeding off each other's macho-ness, inflating their macho egos.

Say "macho" again, Aiko.

Macho.

"What're you gonna do about it there, tough guy?" My boss's proud, amused smile never left his face.

He was excited to have someone feed into his games, he was almost begging Urameshi to lay out the first blow. What my boss would have done in retaliation if Urameshi actually laid into him, I wasn't sure.

"I'm going to pound your face into the ground," and my boss's only response was an excited wink before pushing his eyes up towards the shelf I had been stocking.

His eyes scanned over the cans while Urameshi continued,"You can't just talk to us like that and get away with it."

There was a moment of silence that lasted a few seconds as Urameshi's tension rose while my boss mentally noted the inventory. Finally, he feigned surprise as he looked over to us, as if we hadn't been standing in front of him for the past few minutes.

"I care _so_ little about what_ever_ it was you just said," my boss faked a chuckle and began walking past us down the aisle, singing. "_Sooooo_ little, so little, so little, so little. ~"

He waved the clipboard around in the air as he sang, rounding the corner.

"That your coworker?" Urameshi sulked after him. "What time's he off? I'll wait out back and kick his ass."

"That's my boss," I retrieved my tongue and stayed put, determined to ignore his orders. "You'd think with his egotistical god complex he would have a better job than being a manager at a grocery store."

"And you haven't punched him yet?" Urameshi leaned against the shelf with me again.

"Nope, not worth it. Besides, it doesn't bother me as much as it's just annoying. Sometimes it's funny when he lays into someone else."

"And he's always like that?"

I nodded, wanting to change the subject and not talk about my manager, "Yup."

"One more question," he shoved his hands in his pockets, face incredulous with raised eyebrows. "_Stray cat_?"

"Mmm!" I wagged my index finger in the air, and the cleared my throat to prepare.

Urameshi waited patiently, wondering what I could do. And as I opened my mouth, I played with the vocal cords in my throat to mimic the meow of a cat.

He stared at me in disbelief for a few seconds before laughing.

"Yeah, pretty useless," his laughter almost drowned out my explanation. "I don't think the cats understand me or anything but they're curious when I meow at them."

"So…" he continued laughing, bending over to hold his sides. "He heard you?"

"Yeah, parents packed me lunch one day and I didn't want to eat it. Went out back on my break and attracted a stray cat over to me so I could feed it, and he caught me meowing."

Urameshi nodded his head, calming down from his laughter, getting the rest of his chuckles out.

"So what happens if the king shows up and finds his items gone?" I asked to stop his laughter, and reality sunk back into him as a mischievous grin grew.

"He punishes the Prince, who, by the way, is a toddler!" He snorted at mentioning the last part.

"Quit pulling my dick. No way in hell is a toddler going to give eternal sentencing to souls."

"No, I swear it. This is too good to make up."

I was still convinced this whole thing was the prank of the century, "That explains why you're doing his dirty work then."

And, on cue, an alarm on his watch went off, the same obnoxious beeping that came from Urameshi's watch on his wrist.

"A demon! Around here, within five kilometers!" He stared at the watch before sprinting down the aisle, but I was able to pause him for just a moment.

"Urameshi!" My hand involuntarily tightened its grip around the last canned soup.

He turned back quickly before rounding the corner.

"If you die, I'm not stopping the cremation. So come back alive."

He chucked up the deuces with a wide grin, and rounded the corner. He didn't think I was serious.

I'd show him how serious I was by arranging the date of his cremation when he turned up dead, that's for sure.

And though I was curious to take off after them, I still needed a fat paycheck, so I continued to stock the shelf. The only thing that made this task dreadful was how disgusting it was to see the food in front of me.

I'd held back vomit from crawling up my throat twice now, and I felt queasy and weak.

Oh god, this was why I hated working in a grocery store. I was surrounded by garbage that was for some odd reason necessary to survive.

Why couldn't I be a robot or something? Something that didn't need to eat this stuff to survive.

Ugh.

I glanced down at the last canned soup in my hand to see what flavor is was, and noticed the chunky, grey-ish picture of soup on the label.

Oh god, that looks like vomit, I noted while my stomach gurgled and began pushing food up my throat.

Don't hurl in the aisle, Aiko, don't—

I leaned over, retching up my breakfast into the middle of the aisle, and steadied myself before handling the cart as the second wave came up.

Spitting the mushy, yellow residue out of my mouth, I quickly shoved the last can on the shelf. Pushing the cart with me, using it to steady myself as I became dizzy, I began my quick quest towards the back storage room to hide. As I approached the large swinging doors, I grabbed the walkie from my apron and pressed the communication button.

My voice echoed in the loud speakers above throughout the store, "Clean up in aisle three."

Like hell I was cleaning that up.


	11. Summer of Sam

**I'm missable, invincible, behavior is despicable—if you're looking for fun you can come out with me tonight.**

******—**

**—Minamino.**

Though my healing was faster than a human's, the pain still lingered, and the gaping hole in my side hadn't completely closed yet.

I'd returned the favor to Yusuke, taking the blow of Hiei's stolen sword. Yusuke had risked his life to save mine; I could do the same for him. Luckily, the only reason I wasn't dead was because my body had fully armored itself into that of a demon's caliber.

Knuckles tapping on the wooden door echoed throughout the bathroom, and my mother's voice soon followed, "Shuichi, come taste the fish stock I've made."

"I'll be there in a few," I replied, spreading the rest of the paste I'd created over the gaping wound.

The sunset's hue filtered into the bathroom, faintly reflecting off the dull whites and pale colors of the walls and counter as I washed the residue from my hands.

Hiei and Gōki had been arrested. I wouldn't have to deal with Hiei's threat of revenge for a while, at least until he was released.

Or escaped.

I'd been given probation for assisting Yusuke and returning the mirror. I wasn't sure how my mother would have taken my disappearance if I would have been arrested.

Bandaging my wound, I tucked in my shirt before reaching over to the water bottle. It held a soft, purple liquid that glowed orange from the lighting. I shook the solution slightly, pushing the concoction around in the plastic bottle. Hojo was supposed to pick this up tomorrow for her appointment next week, though it still needed a few days to set into its full potential.

The solution was dangerous, since her organs were already not functioning at their fullest due to her diet, though the effects of the solution could be reversed with another.

This forced her kidneys to secrete an unhealthy amount of protein into the urine, effectively causing Nephrotic Syndrome.

Her weight would continue to rise as her body retained fluids. If she wasn't discharged by this weigh in, the plan would be dropped and we would create another. If the plan was successful, she would return for the next vile that would allow her body to be relieved of the swelling and repair the holes in her kidneys.

The first solution apparently gave her stomach problems, so I diluted this one slightly. At least, I assumed it had given her stomach problems when we talked on the phone about how the first weigh in went.

"Jesus fucking Christ," she'd gasped, groaning over the phone. "I'll call you tomorrow about this, I need to go fucking blow my brains out on the toilet."

It didn't sound like a side effect or symptom of Nephrotic Syndrome, but I assumed her body was unable to handle the pressure and fluid retention.

I set the bottle in the desk's drawer in my room before heading downstairs to my mother who had begun pampering me again, preparing my testing plate and setting my seat for me. I should have spoken up since my mother seemed to work even harder now that she'd been released from the hospital, as if to make up for even being put in there.

"I think I may have put too much salt in here," she gripped the handle of the pot as she leaned it over the bowl, slowly pouring out the liquid with the ladle. "Tell me what you think, dear."

I'd have to find a way to be stricter, forcing her to settle down. I didn't need a repeat of the mirror incident; I assumed I already lost half my life.

I sat down and brought the liquid to my lips with a small spoon. I could taste the amount of salt she'd put in, the intensity hit my tongue.

"Yes, you did put just a bit too much," I gave her an apologetic smile.

I didn't like worrying her over mundane things such as how much salt was in the stock, but it was better than having her fret over me.

She sighed and turned back to the stove with the pot, wondering what to do—if she could balance out the salt with a sweetness or acidic flavor, or if she had to dump it all and start over.

She rubbed the back of her neck as she placed her hand on her hip, pondering what to do. But she sighed again and gave up, and turned around to sit with me at the table.

"I'll figure out what to do in a few minutes," my mother sat down across from me and exhaled in relief, remembering that she needn't fret over the little things. "Enjoying your last day before summer classes at cram school? You should, the hours will almost be the same as Meiou's."

"I was only given a few days, mother," I reminded her. "And the cram school has given plenty of assignments that I need ready to hand in on the first day."

"Everything will be worth it in the end," she reassured me with a wide smile and began on her motherly dreams for me. "You'll get a great paying job, a wonderful home, meet a beautiful girl and raise a beautiful family."

I could only muster a chuckle in reply, eyes downcast on the stock in front of me.

To be honest, I wasn't sure if I actually wanted to stay in the human world. Preferably, after she passed on when she was meant to—from old age—I would return to the Makai.

Until then, I supposed the most suitable course of action would be to follow out her ideals. Unless I could find something I found more enjoyable.

My finger-tips leisurely traced along the subtle ridges of the bamboo placemat beneath my bowl as I quickly debated on what I'd enjoy doing while waiting out time with my mother.

Honestly, human life was mundane, though I often liked the leisure involved. It was also interesting to stick around to see how humans acted.

Hojo was, by far, the most entertaining with her brash actions and temper tantrums, though Yusuke was creeping up to take her place. I'd expected him to be a skilled strategist with how he'd handled the fight with Hiei, but he was merely a hopeful risk taker.

"I'll think of something, mother," I said. "I'm not exactly sure what I'm interested in doing just yet."

"It's only your first year," she reassured me. "You'll think of something by your senior year. A good rule of thumb is to just go to the best university, so even if you change your major, that school's still on your résumé no matter where you need to apply."

If I had been Minamino, Shuichi, the boy—the soul—that was meant to be her son… I wonder how he would be able to handle the pressure of the human life. Humans fretted over the simplest things—like their weight, or their appearance.

Their grades, their clothing, and other's opinions of them.

Having lived in the Makai under different pressures, these goals and stresses all seemed trivial in perspective. Though if I had been a human boy, I guess I would have stressed about these things, because it would have been all I'd known.

"What schools do you recommend?" I picked up the spoon and dipped it into the stock, watching the foamy liquid move in a fluid motion.

"Well there's the University of Tokyo," she nodded, a faint smile crossing her lips as she leaned her head in her hand, resting on the tablecloth. She closed her eyes, almost serene, as she imagined all the possible universities I could attend, "Kyoto University, as well. Oh, and Osaka University."

Of course, she would pick the top three universities in Japan.

Before I could respond, the doorbell sounding through the house cut me off. My mother all but raced to the door to answer it.

Hatanaka had been away on a business trip for the past few days and she'd been lonely without him. My company sufficed, but I obviously could not offer her the same comfort Hatanaka could give her.

She was excited to talk to others that weren't her coworkers or I, and I felt the need to remind her that she should be resting so she wouldn't put herself back in the hospital. But her excited voice stopped me from following her to the door to deter the salesman, and I stayed put.

"Oh, you're just the cutest little boy!" My mother's voice carried into the kitchen, sparking my interest.

And to my dismay, I heard Hojo's mumbles mix in with my mother's, along with her familiar scent.

I could feel my eyes slowly rolling into the back of my head, wondering why she was here. Standing up, I made my way through the narrow hallway to the front door.

I was surprised to see her on the porch, adorning a purple kimono and an attempted traditional maiko hairstyle, bearing purple, faux-flowers and silver ornaments. I expected her to take a more modern approach with her hair, but it still suited her as she held onto Minoru's hand while he showed off his yellow kimono to my mother.

"Shuichi, look who dropped by to visit!" My mother smiled, turning to me.

And I glanced over to Hojo, who seemed bored per usual. The only difference was the slight change in her face, though it wasn't noticeable for those who saw her daily. But for someone who stayed away as often as I, the slightly plumper curvature of her cheeks were noticeable.

"Look who got discharged," Hojo nodded dryly towards Minoru as I approached the boy with a small smile.

"Discharged?" My mother's curious eyes glanced around the group of us.

"He was in the hospital for a while," Hojo replied warily, knowing she'd messed up. "Now they're doing some research experiment on him for a few months."

"Why didn't you tell me?" My mother's eyes saddened as she looked down at the boy.

Hojo stayed quiet, unsure of what to say as she already created the situation.

"We didn't want to stress you out, mother," I replied, knowing no matter what, her feelings would be hurt. "It was while you were in the hospital."

Her lips pursed slightly as she looked down to Minoru, who was eyeing the inside of our house with interest.

After a moment of an awkward silence, Hojo finally broke the tension as she turned her gaze on me, "Get dressed, loser, we're going to the summer festival."

Misery did love company.

And my mother perked right up, pushing all her hurt emotions away, "That's a perfect way to spend your last day before summer cram school! Aiko, are you in the ceremony? You're all dressed up."

I was almost willing to suffocate my mother with some powder from a Makai plant to keep her from encouraging Hojo's request.

"No, I'm just fabulous," she shrugged with a simple smile.

And my mother's laughter encouraged her.

"I'm sure you have a kimono in your closet, dear," my mother faced me. "Or at least a yukata."

My eyes drifted to Hojo again, who raised her sculpted eyebrow in smug victory as if to say, "Yes, you're stuck being miserable, just like me."

"I'll go check," my mother left briefly to the stairs, heading into my room. "Catch up with your friend."

"Are you Japanese?" The little boy perked up, grabbing Hojo's and my attention.

"Yes."

If I hadn't been the one to help put him in the hospital, my voice wouldn't have been as kind and warming.

"Then why is your hair red?"

Hojo slapped her hand upside the back of the boy's head, bringing about hurt mumbles as she chided him, "God, Minoru, you can't just ask people why their hair is red."

Even though she'd asked the same question before.

"I'm flattered I was your first choice to spend time with, but I'm sure you're popular enough to have found another person to take to the festival," she heard the sarcasm in my voice.

"I was going to go with Urameshi, but he went on some weird trip to talk to some old bat who's looking for a 'disciple'," she replied.

"And your henchwomen had better things to do?"

"Like I'd spend time with them when I don't have to. I was going to invite you after I dragged Urameshi with me," she rolled her eyes. "I mean, I can't leave you out. You're God's Gift to the World, after all."

She saw me attempting to repress the smug smile on my lips at her words, and she grinned.

"You're willing to step down from your high horse to give someone else that title?"

She rolled her eyes again as her grin disappeared, "Oh, shut the hell up."

"You should take your own advice sometime."

Playfully, the back of her hand jabbed towards my stomach. I moved out of the way with ease, sparking the pain in my wound to flare. I tried hiding my pain, keeping my face steady, but Hojo's all-seeing eyes caught my wince.

She stared at me, suspicious, brows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Minoru had noticed my pain as well.

"Shuichi," my mother stopped halfway down the steps. "You have a kimono."

Inhaling deep, clearing the pain from my face, I retreated to my room to change. Hojo's eyes burned into my back all the way up the stairs.

* * *

**—Aiko.**

Shiori had given me a snack while I waited in the foyer for Minamino to change.

I'd nibbled on the cookie Shiori bought from aisle fourteen as she asked how I liked my new apartment.

My parents were ambitious, buying a two bedroom. I still had to share a room with Minoru, but they now had their own rooms.

She turned briefly to Minoru, and I looked around the area for a trashcan so I could spit up the calories, but there was none in sight, and she turned around again, putting me in her line of sight.

"So, how are you both enjoying your summer break?" Shiori knelt to speak to Minoru.

"It's boring!" He complained as I regretfully swallowed the food. "_Ne-chan_ doesn't take me with her anywhere!"

"Yeah, Minoru," I tried keeping my sass to a minimum around Shiori. "I'm sure you want to hang out with a bunch of girls all day and try on make-up and clothes."

"I do!" He whined, but I wasn't sure if he was serious or just trying to make a point to Shiori.

"Alright," I huffed. "Next time I call up Natsume, I'll make sure you come along and get a make-over."

"Good," he pouted and crossed his arms across his chest, and Shiori encouraged him with laughter.

My eyes found their way from Minoru to Minamino as he descended the stairs, and it felt strange to see him in any clothing other than some form of casual wear or his school uniform.

He took an older, traditional approach with the colors, which was no surprise since he acted like an old man anyways. Dark blue wasn't a color I'd expect in his color wheel, but it was fine. I was more concerned about his injury, but I assumed it was some mess Urameshi was involved in and I had other things to interrogate him about.

"Let's go, loser," I addressed Minamino as I held onto Minoru's hand.

And Shiori waved us off as we left the house, sandals scuffing along the cement walkway to the sidewalk.

"Do you have a curfew, little boy?" I teased, watching him slip out a water bottle from his sleeve as we rounded the corner. "I'll make sure to get you home safe and sound to Momma."

"I'm surprised your parents let you out of the house at all," his smile may have seemed innocent to Minoru, but I knew it was smug.

He handed me the bottle of purple liquid, and I took it quickly despite Minoru noticing it anyways.

"Can't be tamed," I shrugged, noting the purple was much lighter this time as I handed Minoru the cookie I didn't want.

"What's that?" Minoru eyed the bottle, taking the food without much thought.

"Flavored water," I said.

"Can I have some?"

"When you're old enough," I replied, guiding him towards the older boy. "Go bother Minamino."

"What's your name?" Minoru instantly let go of my hand to walk closer to Minamino, who looked down at the five year-old with a fake smile.

Though Minoru couldn't tell the difference.

"Shuichi," he replied, almost wondering how annoying the boy could be.

"Shuichi," Minamino was about to find out just how annoying. "Your house is so big; do you have your own room? I have to share one with ne-chan, and she's so mean in the morning."

His green eyes glanced up to me as I winked to Minamino, mouthing, "Have fun."

"She's so mean in the morning she always kicks me out of the room so she can change. It's not like I want to watch her or anything I mean I'm busy getting dressed myself! And then I'm playing with my action figures, I don't have time to look at her!"

And I walked a few paces ahead of the two to let Minamino suffer at the mouth of my little brother for a while. It was only about fifteen minutes of freedom, and we soon reached the edge of town.

The festival was held on the riverfront, where everyone had set up their stands along the dirt path next to the grass hill that rolled down to the water. The sun was a sliver on the horizon as we approached the festival stands on the dirt path, and Minoru sprinted ahead of us in excitement.

I leaned forward and latched on the back of his collar, dragging him back as Minamino stepped up next to me.

"Rules," I demanded as I untied the change purses I tied on my forearm.

"Stay within eyesight of you at all times," Minoru began.

"Next," I handed Minamino the water bottle and then dug into my change purse to filter out the money I wanted to give him.

"No pets at the end of the night."

"Next."

"Dad says I can't cuss."

"Dad's not here," I dangled his filled change pouch above his head and he reached up for it.

"If anyone tries to take my money or prizes I scream like a little bitch so you can come kick their asses."

"You got it, little dude," I dropped the pouch and he caught it, sprinting off instantly to the nearest game of his interest.

Minamino watched as Minoru ran off to the nearest wooden stand, eyeing the prizes that dangled from the roof, "He's five years old, Hojo. He shouldn't be off on his own."

"Trust me, he's so annoying that if he gets kidnapped they'll just bring him back with a note saying sorry," I scoffed, and noticed Minamino shaking his head slightly at my words, smiling in disbelief.

I nodded to the water bottle in his hand, ignoring his judgment since I knew how to take care of my little brother, "Why is that one lighter than the last?"

"You mentioned over the phone… your stomach problems."

Oh, the laxatives.

"Will it still work if it's lighter?"

He nodded in reply as he slipped the bottle back into his sleeve, "It should work all the same."

"Good, then that means you have time to explain a whole 'lotta things to me."

I tugged on his sleeve and led him to one of the games stands. I readied the questions I had in mind as my sandals brushed up against the grass protruding in front of the wooden structure from underneath.

I dug in my change pouch for payment, and the stand owner came up to us. Behind him was a small sea of bottles, intricately placed in certain positions on purpose to make the game that much harder.

I set the coins on the counter as the owner leaned over towards me.

"Eh, the little lady's paying today?" He grinned, his five o'clock shadow was brought out by his grey kimono. "Your boyfriend ain't gonna pay today?"

Ah, should I tear him one for attempting to mask this sexism with chivalry, or do I take advantage to embarrass Minamino?

I could fight the patriarchy any day, here comes the embarrassment.

"Ugh," I scoffed and rolled my eyes, lacing my fingers through Minamino's as I held our intertwined hand up in the old man's view. Minamino's hand stayed limp as I tightened my grip, "I know. I always get stuck with dirt bag losers."

I quickly glanced up to Minamino, who was slipping slightly in hiding his exasperation.

"You're right, darling," Minamino played along, soothing the annoyance in his voice. "As always, you have to be right."

"Am I ever _not _right?" I feigned a gasp as my eyes darted up to him, and the shop owner chuckled between us.

"Well, here," the stand owner grinned to me, handing me extra rings for the game. "I'll make it up to ya'."

I quickly let go of Minamino's hand to take hold of the extra rings

"Thank you," I puckered my lips in a smile and handed Minamino a few rings, and he took them with ease.

"Ah, Yukichi-san!" An older woman's voice came from behind me.

I turned around to find an grey-haired woman leading her toddler grandson along, heading towards the stand owner.

"I haven't seen you around lately! How have you been?" She walked past me and the stand owner nodded to Minamino and I to play before stepping to the other end of stand to talk to the woman.

"Hey there, Izumi! I went to Miura City to get a fishing business started," Yukichi grinned. "After the festival, I'll move down there for good! Fishing is always best during the summer."

Though I was interested in his life story, Minamino's was my priority at the moment.

"So, explain to me this whole merging-youko business," I kept my voice low as possible as I twirled a ring around my index finger.

He paused, holding the rings gingerly, loosely, and I threw one of mine into the pit of bottles, hoping I'd land a stick.

The ring bounced of the mouth of the bottle as he replied, voice as low as mine, "In my original form, I was attacked in the Makai. On the verge of death, I managed to escape to the human world and merge my soul into a fetus."

"So, is that another planet, or…?"

He nodded his head side to side, pondering how to explain it, "It is another planet, but also, in a way, another dimension."

I let out a heavy sigh as I tried wrapping my head around that. He tossed a ring into the bottle pit, and it caught on the bottle of the neck with ease.

Show off.

"And… you have two souls inside you?"

"No, only one," he eyed me as I chucked another ring into the bottle pit, and missed once again.

"Did you like, shove the other soul out?"

"No, I was too weak to completely take hold of another person," he replied, features darkening from the sun's disappearance. "Since the fetus didn't have a soul, I was able to merge with it easily."

"So you got to just chill in a womb for a few months," I snorted. "You were actually conscious. That's a first for a fetus."

"It didn't feel long, to be honest."

"So… what put you in that situation?" I tossed my second to last ring in the bottle pit, and watched as it rolled around on the mouth of the bottle briefly before finally falling on the neck.

I fist pumped the air and muttered a triumphant "fuck yeah" before turning to view the red-head next to me.

Amused with me, I could see the corners of his lips tugging upwards, "I was being hunted by a soldier from the Reikai's Special Defense Force."

"Someone like Urameshi?"

"No, the Special Defense Force soldiers are highly trained and deal with more important matters than what he is assigned," his eyes briefly turned to the stand owner who was lighting the paper lights that hung from the stands roof, illuminating the area with a faint red tint.

_More important matters_. How important was he? If he was so important then, why wasn't he being hunted now?

If the Makai held multiple demons like the Ningenkai held humans… then… becoming important wasn't easy. So…

"How old are you?"

He tossed his second to last ring, and I realized he was subtly taking control of the conversation, steering me to ask certain questions, "I've lost track, honestly. I'm certain I'm at least one thousand years old."

A thousand year old youko who had specialized in armed robbery was hunted down by the Reikai's Special Defenses, who was then seriously injured and stole a body from a fetus.

Yes, that made _so_ much sense.

"Last ring," I held mine up, changing the subject. "Want to make a bet?"

"Sure," the corners of his lips tugged into a small smirk.

"If I win, you do my homework for the rest of the year," I whipped my nose in the air with confidence and pride.

"And if I win?"

"Nothing. The fuck?" I snorted. "I'm up against some thousand year-old demon; it's only fair to give me some sort of advantage."

He shrugged, amused anyways.

I gently kissed the ring for good luck before chucking it into the pit, only to find it bounce straight off the mouth of a bottle.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I turned to Minamino, who was outright laughing.

He tossed his ring, but before it could leave his hands, I swatted at his wrist to hinder his aim. Mid-air, slow motion, I waited for the ring to fall in between the bottles.

But in the end, his ring still landed perfectly on the neck.

Angered, I exhaled through my nose as he continued to laugh.

"You won'em all, young man," the stand owner appeared again and nodded to the back wall behind the sea of bottles. "Choose your prize."

It was adorned with a variety of stuffed animals.

"Get the little pig for Shiori."

"My mother isn't immature," blithe nonchalance in his comeback had me itching to bite his head off. "What does Minoru like?"

"Uh…" I eyed the selection, finding piglets and primates, and then what seemed to be an alligator.

Maybe a crocodile? The hell was even the difference?

"That alligator," I nodded towards the green stuffed animal that had an unnecessarily goofy, sharp-toothed grin sewn on. "He likes weird animals."

The stand owner handed me the prize instead of Minamino, and I grinned at the thought of presenting the prize to Minoru and saying I'd won it for him. It was about the size of my torso, and Minoru was probably struggling with carrying whatever other prizes he won.

But I didn't want to hold this all night.

Stepping away from the stand, I eyed the area for Minoru. Crowds of people blocked my view of where he could have been, and he wasn't in my line of sight like he was supposed to be.

I roared his name over the sea of people, grabbing multiple pairs of eyes in the process, "_Minoru!_"

And within seconds, Minoru's small body could be seen behind two other stuffed animals as he pushed his way past an older couple to come into view. He was talented enough to carry a cotton candy in one hand as well.

"I'm here!"

"Look at what I won for you," I grinned as I eyed Minamino, who held the small smug grin I often saw.

He didn't seem to mind I was taking credit for it.

"That's so cool! Thank you!" Minoru jumped excitedly at seeing the alligator.

I almost felt bad about taking credit, but maybe that was what he wanted me to do. He wanted me to crack, show my ego wasn't as big as this festival.

But my ego _was_ as big as the festival.

"You're welcome," I replied.

"But I can't hold it, I'm about to go play the cork shooting game!" Minoru ran off into the crowd, shoving the cotton candy in his mouth as he left.

I stared off into the distance, pondering on the cork shooting game and where it was so I could shove the crocodile down his throat. Then he'd be able to hold it.

"You mentioned he was now a research experiment?" Minamino stepped up beside me as Minoru ran up to one of the many illuminated stands and stood on his toes to shove his prizes on the counter.

"Yeah, a few kids that also dropped because of Gōki were chosen by a research facility," I remembered the doctor and a representative sitting with my parents and me in Minoru's hospital room as the nurse unhooked his IVs. "They're willing to pay for the medical bills he accumulated in the hospital, and for the duration of the experiments he gets full medical treatment and better insurance than we have."

"So, if you're able to get discharged from the counseling appointments, you'll only have tuition to worry about."

The thought of both not having to sit through the appointments but not have to pay extra bills felt amazing, and I could hold back my excited smile, "Yeah, things are looking pretty good now."

He stared in the distance towards Minoru, watching the boy having gotten a small wooden stool to play the game at a reasonable level.

"They'll be doing psychological and physical tests on him to see 'what happened'," I continued. "I hope they find out he's some sort of prodigy. Then I can drop out and help put him through, like, med school so I can mooch off him forever."

I snickered a bit before deepening my voice, pretending I was older, "I put your ass through med school now buy me a new car."

"You're an amazing older sister," he noted dryly as he watched Minoru on a stool, handling the toy gun with ease.

"He reads at a higher level than the rest of his class," I mumbled. "He's naive, but learns academics quickly… When he was four he asked me to show him how to do my pre-calculus homework and I didn't explain anything algebraic. He did multiple problems after I showed him one."

"You'd be willing to drop out and give him a future?" Minamino's eyes dropped down to mine.

I didn't want to.

But if they found that he was a prodigy then I _should_ drop out. My parents couldn't put us both through college…

"I don't know," I mumbled, eyes fixed on the soft dirt below my sandals. Inhaling deep, I looked over to the stand Minoru was at and fixated on another subject. "I bet I could kick your ass in that."

And he understood my struggle.

"I'm sure it hurts being knocked off that pedestal," he replied. "Your ego should mend itself soon."

"My ego was never harmed," I began walking, heading towards the stand. "I'm sure yours was, being injured enough to hide in another body."

He was silent for a moment as I eyed the stands we passed by, avoiding bumping into the families and couples that walked past and with us.

"I've regained most of my strength," he answered. "Even if my ego had been hurt, my abilities have developed. That makes up for it."

"Abilities?" I remembered Urameshi's little finger gun. "What abilities?"

A teasing smile and raised eyebrow only angered me further as he turned in the crowd, towards the small hill that lead to the river, "The ceremony should be starting now."

"Asshole, answer me," I muttered as I followed him to the grassy field, where many families, friends, and couples set up their towels and blankets to wait.

He ignored me and sat himself a couple of yards away from a small family of four, and I sat next to him. Setting the stuffed animal on my lap, I leaned in to interrogate him.

"What are you talking about?"

The sounding of drums from the other side of the river echoed around us, silencing everyone to draw attention to the opening ceremony.

He turned his attention from the riverbed to me, features illuminated by the moonlight. I suddenly noticed how much more handsome he'd look if he pulled his hair up occasionally.

He leaned back on his hands and gingerly lifted one up towards me, "May I?"

Thankful he asked beforehand, I decided to oblige with a quick nod.

But his hand merely hovered in front of my face for a few moments; it wasn't until I realized the crawling feeling upon my leg that I bothered to look away from him.

Fireworks whistled in the background as I leaned over to my feet. I gently lifted the edge of my kimono to see the grass growing rapidly, wrapping itself gently around my ankle.

Explosions and bursts of colors in the sky illuminated the grass around my ankle in unnatural colors of red and blue.

A shriek caught in my throat, all I could do was gasp and turn back to see Minamino.

No smug smile, no smirk—only a calm, patient expression.

But all I could think of was a cheesy comic book superhero name, "Plant Boy."

More whistling of firecrackers were let loose in the air, accompanied by their explosions and bursts of colors. As he chuckled, watching me jerk my leg back slightly while the grass clung to me with force, I let the reality sink in.

It was all real.

But the crackles and explosions of the firecrackers weren't the only noise that had my attention. A familiar cry of pain and fear reached both Minamino and I.

Minoru.

The grass gently released me as I shoved the stuffed animal off my lap, and I quickly shot up to find Minoru with Minamino not far behind. Running back into the dirt pathway that held all the stands, we found a crying, snot-nosed Minoru running towards us—clutching onto his stuffed animals for dear life.

"What? What's wrong?" He buried his face in between my thighs as I approached him, and Minamino and I searched around for someone running after him, a bully.

But Minoru, who was still clinging to his stuffed animals, let out an awkward, shaky pointed finger at the ground.

Minamino and I scoped the area quickly, eyeing our now colorfully tinted surroundings, and Minamino noticed it first.

"A Makai insect," his mumble took my eyes to the ground, feet away.

Crushed into the dirt near a stand, as if it'd been stepped on, was an unusually large bug. A slender leg twitched repeatedly, slowly, as its nerves were still active though its life was gone.

"It's just a big bug, Minoru," I lied, eyeing Minamino.

Minamino, though suddenly reserved with grave features, nodded curtly for Minoru.

"But it tried landing on me!" He cried.

"Minoru, it's dead," I smoothed his ruffled hair. "Let's forget about it and go see the fireworks and ceremony. I left the alligator there to save our spot."

Minoru wiped his eyes with the fake fur of his stuffed animals. I tugged on Minamino's kimono sleeve for his attention, but his eyes stayed on the gooey mess.

"It's just a bug, right?" I whispered, tugging on his sleeve as I leaned in towards him.

After a few seconds, he finally replied with a whisper, "No."


	12. Attitude

**—Aiko.**

"I think it was good," Kitajima leaned over the dark wood counter and handed me the VHS as I passed by. "It was pretty cute, had a lot of musical numbers in it."

The book store was quaint and smelled of coffee and warm paper, and in the winter it was accompanied by the singe of firewood. Often, young college students would be found roaming about with their coffees and textbooks, but only opening those bulky hardcovers after reading their latest fix they got from the dark walnut bookshelves. The wood held all sorts of books, from manga to non-fiction, holding genres from adventure to history to supernatural.

Scattered about near the perimeters along the walls would be small, square walnut tables, and chairs adorned with an olive seating cushion that somehow perfectly matched the carpet underneath it.

On the far west wall was the fireplace used in the fall and winter, where many younger kids would come to lay near while reading their favorite books, and staff members would sometimes dress up as Christmas characters and read to the younger crowd.

The large window near the door, that allowed everyone to see inside, was also graced with seeing the winter festivities, and drew in many people.

It was a warm place to be—even in the summer, it was a comforting place. A warm store in every sense.

"Safe for kids to watch?" I asked, reading the back as I leaned over the edge of the black pleather luxury chair.

It had to be, said it was a kid's movie after all.

And near the registers was another space for reading, more comfortable, with four black pleather chairs facing each other with a small glass table in between the two pairs.

"Yeah," she nodded, leaning against the counter. "America rated it G so it should be fine."

Being seated at the one across the table so I could view her without having to cock my head around the back of the chair in all sorts of directions, I talked above the normal whisper that was appropriate for the 'mom and pop' bookstore.

"My parents will still want me to check it out first," I sighed. "They're still upset that we all let him watch this R-rated movie."

"Ah, are you ready to buy those?" She turned her attention to her customer, who was setting down his coffee on the wooden counter with his books.

Kitajima adjusted the collar of her periwinkle shirt before punching in the amount on the register, quickly scanning the books with her eyes for their prices.

"Do you have your receipt for the coffee?" She nodded at the covered cup with a toothy smile, straight black hair brushing against her shoulders. "We have a deal now that if you spent over 500 yen at our neighbors shop you can get five percent off here."

"Nah, I didn't spend that much," he shrugged his broad shoulders, digging around for coins in his wallet.

Kitajima side eyed me briefly as she saw my gestures from her peripheral vision.

I nodded from her to the heart-faced boy with delicate cheek bones, who had to be in college already, and cocked my head back. Opening my mouth wide, I pretended to shake salt into my mouth.

Kitajima snorted and tried to compose her facial features, but the corners of her lips twitched upwards as she tried keeping a straight face. And I knew I got to her when her cheeks pushed up against her lower lids. She tried to compose herself, but quiet, high-pitched whistles of laughter left her nose.

She held her hand out; palm cupped upwards, she let the boy drop the coins and bills into her hand. She didn't look at him once as her hand moved instinctively to the register, and her eyes stayed on the dark wood counter as her cheeks flushed.

"Thank you," she squeaked, still trying to be polite, and he gave her a curious raised eyebrow.

She lowered her face towards the register's drawer as it chimed open and took advantage of the few seconds to retrieve his change and place a smile on her face.

Her attempt to recompose didn't go well at all.

"Come again," she gave a shaky, open-mouthed smile, and a nervous laugh caught in her throat.

And the second he turned around, she snorted out laughter and hid her face in her hands to quiet herself as she let loose into her embarrassed fit.

I sat smug in the chair, legs dangling over the arm, and eyed the denim that wrapped tightly around my ankles in victory.

"You can't do that while I'm talking to customers!" Her face flushed, but we both knew she found it funny.

"He was cute," I shrugged. "Should've asked for his number."

"Aiko," she sighed and leaned on the counter, burying her face into her arms.

I returned to the back cover of the VHS quickly. I skimmed through it before setting it in my lap and reaching to the table to grab one of the manga I'd picked up a few minutes before coming to the counter. I'd only paid for one but I figured I could skim through the other two.

I could hear her still laughing softly, and she lifted herself up with a long sigh. She knew there was nothing else she could say, so she'd just have to find a way to get me back one day.

I flipped through to the first page of one as she eyed me. She then cocked her head to the side in curiosity.

"Your parents don't do anything about manga when it comes to Minoru…"

"Because my dad skims through them sometimes when he's bored."

Kitajima giggled at the thought of my dad skimming through superhero manga. My dad still kept his wanna-be American Greaser domineer, especially around guests.

"Yeah, he seriously likes it sometimes," I laughed. "He likes the kind of superheroes that fight mobsters and stuff."

"Oh, like Batman?"

"Yeah, he's one my dad likes."

"Bruce Wayne is cute in an older guy kind of way," Kitajima pondered, cupping her chin in her hand, staring off into the bookstore.

"Sugar daddy," I corrected, mildly disturbed.

She snickered a bit before dramatically placing the back of her hand on her forehead as she feigned going limp.

"Oh, _Bruce Wayne-sama_!" She moaned.

I cackled, choking with laughter as she joined in on her own joke, "You're fucking gross."

"No, but seriously," she wiped her eyes briefly before continuing. "_Bruce Wayne-sama_."

I gagged as she laughed again, thinking about the noticeable age difference.

"He'd be wrinkly by the time you're like twenty-five," I noted.

"_You know_ in all those shojo manga's you read, there's plenty of sugar daddy plot points in those," she snorted.

"Well, yeah," I couldn't help but give an awkward, almost embarrassed smile, trying to quickly think up a difference to let my guilty pleasure slide. "It's manga! Not real life."

"It's a real life scenario," she grinned at me as I rolled my eyes and shoved my nose in one of the book's pages. "The female protagonist in that one has a sugar daddy."

Fuck.

I closed the book and chucked it across the store as she belted out laughter, drowning out the muffled landing.

"Whatever, I'm out!" I got up and gathered my relatively large, plum, leather purse and the VHS, and the lone manga I'd paid for.

She continued to laugh as I laced my finger through the denim's belt loop and hitched it up to fit snug on my lower waist.

"I'll make sure to have them write 'Died waiting for Bruce Wayne-sama' on your tombstone."

She waved at me, clenching her hand as if to grope the air, as we always did when we greeted each other or said goodbye.

"I'll put that in my will."

"Bye, freak!" I waved her off as she giggled some more.

"Oh, wait!" She called after me. "My uniform blouse?"

Oh, fuck me.

I groaned, and decided to tell a half-truth.

"I got in a fight…" I replied. "And I kind'a got blood on it… I'm sorry; I'll get you a new one."

"Nah, it's fine," she waved me off. "I let you borrow one that was too small for me anyways. I just wanted to know if you had it, I was going to sell it to some third year in junior high."

She shrugged and gave me a wink, as she felt she had gotten in with the in-crowd in Kaiou.

"_Bye_, conceited freak," I snorted, and we waved each other off, groping the air.

"Bye, girl," she called after me as I opened the door, bell chiming about. "Have fun looking for your sugar daddy."

I groaned a laugh and exited the book store to begin my walk home. Though I wasn't in the mood since I knew it was early enough for my parents to start questioning me about whether I ate dinner.

I always ate breakfast when I was home. It helped, a bit… I learned to take it as my only meal. I convinced myself that if I ate breakfast then I could find ways to avoid lunch and dinner.

Maybe one day I could do breakfast and lunch _and_ dinner… but not now…

Not for a while.

I didn't like what I saw in the mirror, and I didn't want to get any bigger. I was already swollen and that wasn't aesthetically appealing in the slightest.

If I could just stay somewhere for a while to have an excuse to say I ate, I'd feel better.

I mean, I _ate_. That's what they wanted. They seriously couldn't expect me to just eat all three meals a day without itching to lose it all somehow… Extra meals would put me _over_ calories. I couldn't afford to go over, especially not while looking like this.

I rounded the corner, taking a detour, knowing exactly where I was headed. He may be a bit annoyed to see me, but I didn't want to go home yet.

Seriously, what else did he do with his time? Probably nothing.

I had to pick up the next bottle from him anyways so I could stop swelling. It should have been ready, as I called him after my discharge and told him I'd been let go.

Besides, his company wasn't so bad. It was pretty nice. Watching the fireworks with him was nice. He put up with Minoru more than half the time, leaving me to actually enjoy the moment instead of having to think up responses to Minoru's three million questions.

Also, I called Urameshi's place yesterday to see if he'd returned, but his mother answered the phone.

"No, that little turd curler just up and disappeared three weeks ago and hasn't even had the decency to call me and let me know where he went!" She'd belted over the phone, some words slurred from the beers she'd had a while ago. I actually thought it'd be pretty cool to chill and drink with his mom one day, "If you hear from him, would you let me know?"

"Sure," I'd lied.

If Urameshi was into something his mom wasn't supposed to know about then I wasn't going to say jack shit.

"Thanks—" She'd paused, and I leaned on the cold kitchen counter, chilling my elbows. "What was your name again? You're that girl who came over that one day when Botan was here, right? The same girl from that night…"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Hojo," I'd replied, twisting my finger through the plastic, curled phone cord. "Hojo, Aiko."

"Thanks, Aiko," she'd said, and hung up briefly after I said goodbye.

So, Urameshi wasn't around for me to bother. But it wasn't much of a big deal to me as I could bother Minamino.

Or Kurama.

I'd have to find out what name he wanted me to call him. Or I could think up other things. Nicknames.

Soon, as the sun barely peaked above the horizon, I came up to his home and wiped my shoes on the welcome mat before ringing the hard, rounded, eggshell doorbell.

I leaned over and dug in my purse for the VHS, figuring it would be a good way to pass time. I was sure children's movies weren't his taste, but it was a good excuse to hang around for a while.

I waited patiently, twiddling the VHS between a few of my fingers as I listened for some footsteps behind the front door.

* * *

**—Minamino.**

"Shuichi, dear, could you please get that?"

The doorbell and phone had gone off at surprisingly the same time, and I assumed she wanted me to get the door, as the phone was closer to the couch where she lay.

After I asserted some form of authority over my mother, asking her to take it easy for a while, I had been pushed into doing majority of the house work.

This wasn't necessarily a problem, though it was repetitious and boring. One of the more mundane realities of human life.

And she had taken advantage of it, by relaxing on the couch in her silk, pink nightgown, watching one of her favorite sitcoms in the living room.

I finished placing the last of the dishes in the washer before drying my hands with the rough clothe. It wasn't often we received visitors. The only person who I thought would be bold enough to come around this hour with the intention of staying was Hojo.

As I made my way to the front door, her familiar scent seeped through the threshold.

"Hey, liliac," Hojo grinned as I opened the front door.

She made her way inside the house as she waved a VHS by my face. My mother's voice carried in from the living room—Hatanaka had called.

"Wanna watch The Lion King?" She asked, not leaving me time for an answer as she kicked her suede ankle boots off and made her way to the stairs. "I have to watch it before I can let Minoru near it."

As she ascended the stairs before I could give an answer, my mother called to me, asking who had come over.

"Is that Aiko?"

"Yes," I replied, watching the girl make her way up to the second floor, where she'd never gone before. "She's come over to visit for a few hours."

"She's been around often lately," my mother turned her attention to the phone's receiver, talking to Hatanaka. "It's nice to see them being friends."

I was unsure if I could call her a friend, though I had trusted her with my identity and abilities. Perhaps, unknowingly to me until now, she had weaseled her way into that social status with me. I actually found her quips to be amusing, though I didn't feel I would go out of my way any time soon to spend my free time with her.

As I began my way up the steps, I hadn't even got halfway up before I heard Hojo's cackling. I let out a dejected sigh as I continued up the staircase, wondering what she could have possibly found so hilarious.

Upon setting foot in the hallway, I noticed her leaning against the wall next to my room's door.

"What have you found so amusing?"

I almost didn't care, but she'd been holding her sides and leaning against the wall to keep herself from falling.

"You—" She began laughing again. "Your fucking room."

My eyebrow rose curiously as I stepped up next to her, eyeing my room. Nothing had seemed out of place. My bed was in the far corner near the window, desk perched across the wall from the door, TV stand placed on the opposite wall in front of the bed… nothing was out of place.

"What about it?"

I was curious now; she obviously had some sort of opinion on my taste.

And she continued laughing for a moment more before steadying her breathing and wiping gently under her eyes so to not smudge her make up.

"I couldn't tell the difference between your room and your mom's," she burst out laughter again, almost toppling into my room until she grabbed onto the door's threshold for support.

She leaned in, holding on to the threshold for support as she kept her feet right outside the room, "Your room is organized like a forty-year old woman's!"

Exasperated, I let out a sigh as I watched her roam into my room.

"It's so neat, oh my god," she giggled, and I then knew how she got a hold of everyone's information. She was invasive. "You've got your little dresser over here…"

She opened the drawer and giggled again, "Clothes folded all neat and whatnot. Oh, you use your top drawer for your socks. And your undies—they're boxer-briefs! Look at you, Mr. All Grown Up. All your socks and undies are up here…"

She got on her knees as she reached for the bottom drawer, "Pants down here. No uniform though. Guessing that's in the closet."

She got up quickly and walked a few feet towards my desk, "And then your desk."

She snorted, gently running her fingers along the wood, and sifting through my belongings.

"All your books organized and upright in the back against the wall," her fingers slipped through two of the books and then moved down to the wood." You know… this is a nice lamp. And your grey little coffee mug—it's your pen holder, _aw_! Wait… these mechanical pencils, like, quality. There's no reason for them to be this nice, Daisy."

"This criterion is equal to a forty year-old woman's room?" I walked past her and sat down in the chair at my desk, waiting for her answer.

She stared down at me pursing her lips to keep from laughing.

"Look. I was confused for like, two whole minutes because I walked in your mom's room," she rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a smile. "And then I came in here, and was _still_ confused. That says a lot."

She laughed as she went to the TV stand and fiddled with the VCR underneath for a few minutes, and then turned on the TV after sliding in her VHS.

If this was her idea of friendship, I wondered how long it'd take before I would get tired of it.

She lay down on my bed, grabbing a pillow and pulling it underneath her head as she made herself comfortable.

"I guess your room is pretty cool, though," she shrugged as the trailers began playing. "I share my room with Minoru and the kid has manga and his tighty-whiteys all over the floor on his half of the room."

"And your half?" My voice almost droned as I was becoming more interested in the children's trailers.

"Manga and tighty-whiteys," she deadpanned, forcing the corner of my lips upwards.

Maybe I wouldn't get tired of her.

She reached behind her and toyed with her ponytail before resting her chin on the pillow.

"So have you seen any of those bugs around again?" She asked.

"I haven't, actually," I replied, voice becoming drowned out by the opening song.

Sitting down in front of the bed, she leaned off the edge and looked to her right—staring straight at the side of my face.

"You never did fully explain why they were here."

"I'm not sure," I replied. "A few could have slipped past the barrier that holds the Makai and Ningenkai separate. It's really only in place to hold stronger demons at bay, and since they're relatively weak I'm not surprised some may have slipped through. As far as I'm concerned, there's no reason to worry if there were only a few around."

"So you're sure it's nothing to be worried about?"

"Weak demons slip through all the time, but the ones that get in are rarely a danger to humans. That's one reason why Yusuke has been given the job as Reikai Tantei, to take care of things like this that get out of control."

"Well, good thing I have nothing to worry about," she sighed, eyeing the animated lions on the screen. "It would be _so _hard to go down the way I dream to when being attacked by a swarm of bugs."

"And how's that?" I couldn't help but cock an eyebrow at her choice of words.

The girl wanted to _die_ a certain way.

She rolled over on her back, head hanging off the edge, and lifted both hands in the air. I glanced up briefly to find her middle fingers addressing my ceiling.

"Gonna have them put me in my coffin like this," she lowered her arms and set her hands above her chest to continue flipping off the ceiling. "The rigor mortis should help. That way when they all want to come around and mourn over me they all know they can fuck right off."

It wasn't likely her dead body would hold its position that way anyways but...

"I'm sure there are people who've done you right," I noted as the first musical number began.

"Ha! Not enough. By the way," she rolled over onto her stomach and leaned off the bed towards me. "Speaking of dying, my kidneys are currently fucked. Do you have the next bottle?"

"The ingredients are currently soaking," I noted, remembering the small bottle I had in the back of the drawer of my desk. "It will take another few days before it's suitable to give to you."

"Well, look…" she sighed, reaching her arm out towards me.

With her other hand, she wrapped her fingers around her wrist and squeezed. For mere seconds after she let go, her skin had indented and turned a lighter shade before returning to its normal light-tan. The dent slowly pushed itself out back to its swollen form.

"I'm all swollen and gross and fat and I wake up with puffy eyelids," she said. "That's really hard to slip past my parents, and it's hard to pass off allergies in the summer. Can't you hurry the solution up?"

"The vile needs time to set or it could kill you," I replied. "Think of it as chemistry, or biology, even. The sequence has to be done a certain way or the entire formula can be changed."

"Oh, god, chemistry. Do not remind me of that fucking class."

She had been struggling in our fourth period.

"I cry about it every time I get home," she rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps if you paid attention in class you wouldn't be struggling."

"I actually go to him during the break between second and third hour, you ass," she sighed. "I just don't get it."

"I'm sure you'll understand it soon," I reassured her with possible false hope as my bedroom door opened.

The smell of left-overs—the dinner we'd had only a few hours ago—wafted inside as the door opened, coming with my mother as she came inside. She held a plate with a couple of egg rolls, smiling in her night-gown.

I hadn't noticed how dark it'd gotten in the room as my eyes had adjusted with ease. The hall light spilled into the room, glowing on my mother as she smiled to Hojo.

"Aiko, are you hungry?"

Hojo waved her hand in front of her face and began to vocalize her thoughts. But before Hojo could decline, my mother shoved the plate into the swollen girl's hand.

"Those are just some left overs but I'd hate for them to go to waste. Shuichi already ate dinner so I'm sure he wouldn't mind leaving you with the left-over egg rolls," she sighed with a smile as she left the room.

My mother waved to us as she grabbed the knob, closing the door behind her.

She could be heard talking down the hallway, words carrying through the woodwork, "Have fun, you two. Tell me how the movie is when it's over."

My mother knew about Hojo's disorder, and it was no surprise really, as nobody naturally looked that skinny. Even when swollen.

Hojo sighed dejectedly as she picked up an egg roll by its hard shell, pinching it between her index finger and thumb. She eyed it and mentally noting the calories it contained. She most likely had come over to avoid eating in the first place.

"You told my mother?" I asked, and she shook her head.

"No."

"Doesn't that say something then?"

She eyed me as she hesitated biting into the food. But she crunched down on the fried shell and held her hand underneath her chin to catch the falling pieces and vegetables.

"Say _what_," her question was rhetorical as she focused on the movie.

"Doesn't it say something about how you look?"

"I don't like the way I look."

The worlds all but snarled out.

"Many others don't like the way you look either."

That came out harsher than intended, as I was actually trying to convince her that her weight was a serious issue and worried those around her. But her eyes were more interested in the cartoon.

"Others don't see what I see."

"Others are often worried about what they see."

"Look," she shoved the egg roll into her mouth and set the crumbs she'd collected in her palms on the plate.

She began chewing and covered her mouth with her palm to continue talking. It was talent to have that much attitude with a mouth full of food. Especially with supposedly not much practice.

"When I'm ready to help myself, it'll be because of _me_, not because of others. I'll end up putting all my recovery into one person who could leave me any time and then I'll just relapse."

"As long as recovery is on your agenda somewhere," I dismissed the subject as she reached over and shoved the last egg roll into her mouth whole.

"I don't know why it concerns you," she chewed, her words muffled. "All we do is talk shit to each other."

We both remained silent, staring at the screen as the black-mane lion released his grip on the king of the jungle, allowing him to fall meters below and be trampled to death by the sea of a stampede.

But she _had_ weaseled her way into a higher status with me. Because though she was thick-skinned and -headed, she was a fairly nice person despite all her troubling flaws.

"It's an amusing way to pass the time. It's actually a refreshing form of contact since I often don't find myself feeling guilty after a quip with you."

She was a person I could tease openly and rarely have to deal with any form of hurt feelings. In all honesty, it was entertaining, especially since she bit back.

Her brows furrowed as she chewed the last egg roll and clapped her hands over the plate. She got up from the bed and made her way to my desk, digging through the drawer to find the small travel-size of hand sanitizer. And she returned to her leisure position behind me after spilling some in her hands and dropping the small bottle back in the drawer.

Seconds later after she'd rubbed her hands dry, the way her fingers laced through my hair still took me by surprise... despite having felt the shifting from behind. She gathered my hair in fistfuls, being gentle as she tried situating it closer to the crown of my head.

Continuous shift in weight on the bed drew my eyes to the closet door on the wall next to the bedroom door, giving me a view of us from the body-length mirror. She'd taken out her own hair tie, letting her hair fall flat over her chest.

I realized the difference in the way she let her fingers touch me, as she often held other's belongings as if they were filthy. But as I sat still, allowing her to run her fingers through my hair and gather it, I realized I may have encouraged her too much.

I had never seen her emotionally romantic with another person, as really the nicest thing she'd done was _order_ me to sit outside with her so she could attempt to comfort me. I was unsure if this was similar to her, or if she was taking it a step farther.

I could only assume I provoked some incentive for emotionally romantic feelings.

She gathered my hair and placed it atop the crown of my head before wrapping her hair tie around it, making sure to pull out the strands of hair that had gotten caught underneath the tie.

"That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she said, almost sarcastically as she eyed the closet door.

In body length mirror, she eyed my reflection with furrowed brows.

The only light that graced us was from the television, "Ever."

A solemn look in her eyes was visible from the reflection feet away, as if even she didn't know how she meant for her actions to be portrayed.

Often, she looked bored, lips closed tight as she was thinking of other things. But her lips parted slightly.

She shifted slightly on the bed, and her body weight pushed the plate closer to the edge of the bed. It began slipping, but she caught it in time to prevent the crumbs and wet pieces of vegetables from spilling on my carpet. She slapped her fingers on the edge of the plate, keeping it from falling off.

"And with your usual attitude, I'm sure you won't hear anything else as nice anytime soon."

I reverted back to our normal sort of conversation to put the atmosphere back into its comfort zone. And within moments, she rolled her eyes and leaned in closer to me, hand still planted on the plate for support.

Warm breath on my ear, she whispered slowly in English, "Long live the king."

And she lifted her hand from the plate, letting gravity take hold of the crumbs and vegetables and pour towards the floor. She let the egg-white china fall off the side of the bed just as the antagonist had done to the King only ten minutes ago on the screen.


	13. Pretty Visitors

**All the pretty visitors came and waved their arms and cast the shadow of a snake pit on the wall.  
All the pretty visitors came and waved their arms and cast the shadow of a snake pit on the...  
What came first****—**the chicken or the dickhead? 

******—**

**—Aiko.**

"Whatever, we can just show up after third hour," Natsume shrugged as we passed by Meiou's front gate. "That sounds like a reasonable time, doesn't it?"

"Anything but fucking _Shakespeare_ is reasonable when it's eight in the morning," I groaned, restraining myself from rubbing my eyes and ruining the make-up I'd spent twenty minutes on.

Normally I enjoyed seeing how the campus looked in the morning light. Everything looked pristine; it felt like I was in a cliche movie with every other student who walked with their friends to the main entrance. It was probably the only thing I enjoyed in the morning, but it didn't last long because I hated my first hour with a passion like no other.

The month that wasn't long enough—known as summer break—was over, and the four of us were nowhere close to interested in going back to class. I could just ask Petunia for the notes in first and fourth, though I was hoping we could return by then so I could bother him.

It was fun trying to drive him up the walls. Key word: trying. I didn't always seem to succeed. It really only made me try harder.

And though the shopping was mundane, I'd rather be mosying about in a store where I can't afford anything than sitting and listening to that fat teacher drone on about Shakespeare.

Oh, sorry, probably Machiavelli now that we were back from break. Shoot me.

And though I couldn't afford any of the items in any of the stores we roamed in, I had fun finding outfits I could save up for. My favorite store was the one we'd just entered hours later.

The mannequins were thin and unrealistic in terms of body proportions, and only furthered my obsession to look like them.

On the mannequins were expensive, thin, often silk, fabrics. Solids and obscure patterns were printed on the loose blouses. Majority of them were found tucked in to their pleated skirts and high-waist slacks.

"Put that nasty blouse back, Hitomi!" Natsume snapped at Fukui, and a tickle of pleasure shot up my spine.

I _loved_ when Natsume tore into her henchwomen.

"That's last season. We don't wear pastel patterns with plain solids anymore. _God_, Hitomi, get your shit together."

I snorted back my laughter, but it came out as somewhat of a fart from my mouth as I ended up laughing at Fukui from a few racks away. She rolled her eyes and returned to her rack, and I plopped down near the mannequin and eyed the shoe rack from afar.

We'd been shopping for the day. In fact, we never made it back to Meiou.

Since school had just gotten out, we were the only girls in our age group roaming inside the store. Full of wealthy business women and stay-at-home mothers, the store gave off a mature atmosphere that would have otherwise just been another store in a stripmall.

The walls were a soft pink, and the floor was tiled white. The stainless silver tables held jewelry and small, white bracelet racks that usually held an assortment for girls our age and younger. Towards the back of the store was the glass counter, where all the real jewelry was displayed. On the left wall next to it hung the expensive lingerie that most people came in here for.

"Aiko, pin-striped blouses are in," Natsume called to me from across the store, waving around a small, purple blouse.

"Yeah, so are corduroy pants. Spare me," I replied, feeling only half of my lip curling up in contempt.

I leaned back on the wall stand as I waited for Natsume and the girls to finish their shopping spree since I got tired of the prices. From out the nearby front window, I watched people pass by the sidewalk. It had been obvious from the moment we stepped into the first store that we were ditching class, as students—or at least students in uniform—were nowhere to be found. Even without my blazer, the cerise tie that came with the summer uniform's blouse I was wearing was a dead giveaway of where we attended.

We were quite a ways from any school, so despite classes having ended, only adults or college students were found.

The lone saleswoman didn't care at all, though. She probably enjoyed the fact that we made her look busy on the security cameras.

After a few minutes, the small chime rang throughout the store, signaling someone had walked through. It cut off halfway through, and sounded again. Two people had entered. My eyes glanced to the two older women briefly before turning back to the street view. From my peripheral vision, I could see them leaving again, as they probably entered the wrong store.

The chime sounded again, and my eyes drifted to a slouched, older, lanky man. At first, I thought he was an embarrassed husband wandering in to buy his wife a naughty gift, since other than being that or a pervert, there wasn't any other reason for him to wander into a store that marketed for women.

A saleswoman approached him immediately, her perky tone echoed throughout the calm store, "Hello, sir! Are you here shopping for a gift?"

Natsume, nosy, moved closer to the man and made herself seem occupied as she sifted through another rack of clothing. Her left harm curled upwards, and items upon items of clothing hung between the wedge of her bicep and forearm.

I eyed Natsume more than the man, as I couldn't hear him. She was more apt to have a blatant facial expression of how she felt about the situation. Natsume's eyes lingered on the saleswoman's bun, drifting back and forth between her hairstyle and pink blazer as if to still be judging her.

And, soon, her jaw dropped and brows furrowed, becoming incredulous. Becoming extremely nosy myself, I stood up instantly and made my way closer to the small group of three. I stopped on the other side of the rack Natsume hovered over.

The saleswoman instantly backed away from the man in fright. Natsume quickly followed her actions as she maneuvered herself to the other side of the rack next to me as the man belted out a threat.

"You skank bitch!" He lunged for the saleswoman.

Don't touch her, pig.

Without much thought, I gripped my satchel and sprinted around the small rack, coming up next to the saleswoman. She moved behind me out of instinct, and I planted both palms around the satchel's handle as I swung the bag at his temple.

The force moved him enough out of our way, pushing him into the rack. He stumbled, using the silver roller to handle himself, and straightened up—ready to come at us again.

Close enough to him now, I rammed the sole of my foot on his toes and swung the satchel at his face again. The force pushed him away from the roller. My other leg soon found itself in the air—the tip of my shoes flying upwards between his legs.

My toes connected with his crotch, and he bent over, writhing in pain. Natsume's leg hoisted up and kicked the wheeling rack, rolling it straight into him. The rack wasn't strong enough to push him over on its own, but since he was preoccupied with his family jewels he stumbled at the touch of anything.

And as he hit the ground, curled in the fetal position, my foot connected to his jaw and stomach repeatedly. Alternating between the two targets, I kept kicking him until I couldn't see any other sign of consciousness.

Finally, after maybe thirty seconds and a brief pause from my leg, I noticed he was out.

Stepping back from the older man's unconscious body, the saleswoman and the three stooges came up behind me to see what had happened.

"Did you know him?" Natsume turned to the girl, placing a consoling free hand on her shoulder.

Her other arm was still full of clothes.

"I have a second job at a café and I see him there often, but…" her hands clasped together and found themselves on her white blouse. "I've never talked to him before."

"Wait until my father hears about this," Fukui stepped up behind the two. "My father, the owner of Pocky, will _not_ be pleased about this. Girls should be able to feel safe while shopping and not be harassed by creepy stalkers."

"Oh god," Hayashi gasped. "He's probably one of those stalkers who couldn't work up the courage to even talk to his victims. Like what's his name... Ted Bundy."

"Ted Bundy was a smooth-talker, Ami," Natsume mumbled.

Reality had sunk back into me now, as I'd been on autopilot the entire time.

I'd just assaulted a grown man. I could go to jail.

Catching my breath, I tried steadying myself, not trying to pant like a dog. My legs continued to shake while I continued to take steadier breaths.

Silence consumed the store as we hovered over the man's body, and I stiffened in fear as I saw a familiar, brown and red insect crawl out of the man's mouth. It wiggled around, wrenching itself out of his limp lips.

"W-w-what is _that_!?" Hayashi squealed at the sight of the saliva-covered bug.

"What are you talking about?" The saleswoman blinked, eyeing the man below her.

Natsume's eyes twitched, and she kept herself composed at the sight of the large worm-like insect.

"What's wrong with you two?" Fukui snapped. "Ami, what are you talking about?"

"She's not talking about anything," Natsume mumbled, eyes glued to the bug that was crawling about the man's face. "Miss, can you go get the security tapes?"

"Yeah, of course," the saleswoman bustled her way across the store near the jewelry department.

"Do you want to press charges?" Fukui called after the woman. "My father will totally be alright with funding this case."

He told me it was nothing to worry about. He told me that this was something Urameshi took care of, but it still wouldn't be a problem because there should have only been a few.

He said I didn't need to worry.

These were dangerous. And I was willing to bet there was more than a few.

"I've got it!" The saleswoman called to Natsume from the back of the store, and Natsume's foot lifted up and hovered over the man's face. "Well, the most I'd want is a restraining order or—"

She was aiming for the bug.

"Hey, Akane, what are you—"

Fukui's exclamation was cut short as Natsume's foot slammed down on the man's face, crushing the bug beneath it, breaking his nose in the process.

Hayashi and Fukui stayed silent, though Hayashi was noticeably squirming at the gooey, bloody mess that had been made on the man's face and Natsume's shoes. She twirled her blonde hair around her fingers, curling into herself as she inched away—nose scrunched in disgust.

"Hold my satchel," I mumbled to Natsume, shoving my school bag into her free hand.

She said nothing as I walked out of the store, and I racked my brain for what to do.

I was unsure of whom to go to first, Minamino or Urameshi. Either one I found, I was tearing them a third hole.

Urameshi was the Reikai Tantei… he should already be on this. If he returned from that old lady's place.

God, what do I do?

All around me, buzzing a few feet above the crowds heads, were similar bugs. They'd come in a swarm, traveling in a horde across town. Because I sure as hell didn't see any while looking out the window a few minutes ago.

Without thinking, I pushed myself into the crowded sidewalk and began heading towards Meiou, heading in the direction they'd just come from. But not even halfway down the block, I saw the strange, familiar blue hair heading out of a nearby ally.

"Botan!"

Pink eyes scanned the area, and upon meeting my eyes she shoved her hands behind her back with a nervous grin. But the aluminum baseball bat leaned out from behind her.

Yeah, she knew _exactly_ what was happening.

"What's going on?" I growled and gripped her by the arm of her leather blazer.

She scratched her cheek with her free hand as her eyes drifted into the sky, giggling nervously, "You see…"

* * *

**—Minamino.**

Only a few weeks ago had I been able to heal the hole in my stomach, and then in my battle with Genbu I had been given a fresh wound on my stomach. I would recover easily, but the wound still took its toll on my body as we continued to sprint our way to the roof of the castle. Stamina was always considered a pro for me, but the wound was more than just a nuisance.

We'd been here for a few hours, since earlier this morning.

I had been offered this mission in return for pardoning. I wouldn't exactly be in good standing with the Reikai, considering my history, but I would be allowed to live in the Ningenkai without fear of having to flee to the Makai.

Hiei was also given an offer for pardoning.

Hiei had recently defeated Seiryu, and for a surprisingly strange reason that he's still battling about within himself. He seemed to have taken the battle against Seiryu personally when he'd seen the treatment of Byakko.

Perhaps it was our camaraderie as a whole that sparked a change of heart, maybe it was the trust Yusuke had previously placed in him during the Gate of Betrayal.

Whatever the reason, I was glad it also seemed to sway his earlier distaste for me. He wasn't pleased about me leaving the small group we and Gōki had formed. But he didn't seem too bothered by it now as we continued our way up the stone stairwell.

And honestly, I didn't find myself bothered too much at the thought either. I was focused on completing the mission to receive my pardoning.

"Suzaku should be the only one left," I reassured the group as we stepped on a landing, pausing briefly to take in our surroundings for memory.

"Head straight!" Kuwabara called from behind me, just now reaching the platform.

And we continued upwards, heading Kuwabara's advice as he was the most keen with sensory.

"Good!" Yusuke breathed out as he continued to spring ahead of us. "I'm worried about the city's situation now! Botan said there were thousands of bugs last I talked to her!"

Yusuke skidded to a stop as an electronic beeping sounded in his pocket on cue, and he quickly pulled out a small compact mirror. Behind him, the three of us paused briefly with Kuwabara panting in the rear. But he composed himself quickly as he stood up straight and hovered over us to see what was happening.

The pink compact was disguised as a mirror, but turned out to be a communicator.

"I'm here!" Yusuke flipped open the mirror instantly.

The static of the screen flickered for a moment and cleared into a picture.

"It's Botan! I'm at your school with Keiko!" A young girl's voice sounded over the mirror, and I became relieved as I realized that it wasn't Hojo on the other side.

We all crowded around the mirror as Yusuke conversed with Botan.

"We've been surrounded by people who've been possessed by the bugs," Botan moved the mirror to show a view of leaves belonging to a bush.

She then gently moved the leaves and twigs out of the way to show the zombies that had once been sane people roaming about the area. Small hordes of people walked around the area in front of the school, searching for the girls.

"They're trying to find Keiko," her voice continued though she wasn't in the picture. "They're trying to hurt her. You need to hurry and find the whistle!"

"That motherfu—" A familiar voice sounded over the mirror, and my stomach sank as Hojo appeared on the screen. "What the fuck is going on here, Urameshi?"

"Aiko?! What are you _doing_ with them?!" Yusuke spat in surprise at the angered little girl. "Why are even you there?"

"It's that girl with the nasty attitude!" Kuwabara mumbled in surprise, mostly to himself, at seeing Hojo.

I felt I could never relish a moment such as that ever again.

"Because some funky shit was going down and I _knew_ you had something to do with it," she snapped. "Whenever something creepy goes down, you're always in on it."

Even Yusuke couldn't hold back his nervous laughter at that reality.

"And you," Hojo snarled, eyes directing towards me as her lips curled back over her teeth. "You told me there wasn't going to be a problem with this bug issue."

"You both knew about this?!" Yusuke gasped, eyeing me.

"We'd come in contact with one of the bugs a few weeks ago," I replied quickly, trying to pull suspicion off me. "I figured there wasn't going to be a problem since low-level demons slipped through the barrier all the time. I wasn't aware of this situation or the number of bugs that had slipped through."

"Why are you even there?" She snapped over the receiver. "You literally have_ no_ reason to be there, I swear to God."

"I could say the same about you," I retorted.

"You just_ have_ to be the hero," she rolled her eyes, lowering the pitch to sound more masculine. "Gardenia—the fucking _Messiah_. Let me save you all, I must boost my ego even more. Let my head grow twice its size."

She had to be looking up flower names on a daily basis now.

"You should spend less time throwing insults at me and more time looking for Minoru."

"He's at the doctors for the research appointment. Go look for your mother."

"We do _not_ have time for this, Aiko!" Botan hissed and tried snatching the compact from her, but only managed to bring her blue fringe into view.

"_Hey! No casual wear on school property!"_

An unfamiliar voice drew Hojo's and Botan's eyes away from the screen, and the girl I presumed was Keiko flung herself onto Hojo in a desperate attempt to save her and Botan from a larger man's hands. Through the scratching of the mirror against the dirt, the screen steadied itself upside down, showing a view of a victim of the bugs making his way towards the three girls who were crouched on the ground.

And then Hojo, and her small frame, stood up with a satchel in hand. And in one swift motion as the teacher approached them, she swung it into the man's head, forcing him to stumble away from her.

It was only brief, and another pair of shoes stepped over the mirror as Hojo chucked the satchel at the man's head once more. But it didn't stop him this time, and he lunged for the three girls.

"Motherfuck—"

Her screaming, chorused in with Keiko's and Botan's only seconds later, was cut off as the screen turned to static and blacked out. Yusuke became frantic.

"Hey! Botan! What's happening—Dammit!" He shoved the mirror in his pocket and sprinted up the stairs again. "Now we _have_ to hurry!"

As if we weren't already, Yusuke.

But I kept myself tame from snide remarks as I knew he was frazzled, and the three of us quickly followed him up the stairs. Only seconds later we came up to an open, door-less exit and stepping past it put us on the roof of the castle.

It held no railings at the edges, and in sight, directly across from us, was the lone tower.

Our target was obtainable, and I was thoroughly anxious to complete this mission, given a second wind—a new drive.

"We'll reach the topmost floor once inside," I explained to the three.

"Suzaku's in there," Yusuke growled, ready to sprint through the stone walled tower head first.

But we all paused in our tracks, feeling a strange presence emerging from the stairwells that resided to each side of the tower, both holding no doors. In the distance, past the tower, lightning crackled about, setting a theme fit for an old horror movie. The energy quickly surrounded the tower itself, forming a barrier of protection, and I recognized them immediately.

Multiple plants that took the form of humans emerged from the doors, quickly growing in numbers to become a formidable army. Their bodies seemed to be made of grass, vines, moss, and various other plants from the Makai.

"Who're these guys?!" Kuwabara gaped at the green "humans," still trying to grasp the reality that beings other than ghosts and humans existed.

"Plant people," I replied. "They're merely plants that take the form of man, but have no thinking or will. It'll be extremely tough to get through them all. They're literally living puppets, so it'll be time consuming to try and take them one-by-one."

"Then Yukimura, Botan, and that mean girl won't last long if we can't get past them!" Kuwabara grumbled.

Mean girl.

And even in the situation, I had to stifle back a laugh. She'd probably bitten his head off in their first encounter.

But Yusuke bristled at that realization, and he began charging headfirst into the battle.

"I'll just use my shotgun to blast them outta the way!" He yelled, but I quickly caught his shoulder on time to cool him off.

"No point in wasting your reiki," I attempted to keep calm, but even I was feeling nervous. "You're walking into his snare by being edgy like this."

"Do you have any better ideas then?!" He snapped.

"Yes," Hiei chimed in behind me. "We'll use the window above them."

"On the tower? Don't spout nonsense like that," Yusuke grumbled. "We're not grasshoppers!"

"I have an idea," Hiei grabbed our attention.

Though I never would have expected for _him_ to think of something like this...

As I perched upon Kuwabara's shoulders, I looked down at the ginger-haired boy, who was obviously strained upon not only having my weight upon his back—but Hiei's as well.

"Can you manage?" I asked, hoping that he wouldn't give out half-way through.

Because though I honestly did care about his physical state, I cared just a bit more the entire plan being ruined.

"I'll kill you one day, Hiei," was Kuwabara's only grumbled response, as the two had snapped insults at each other for the past few hours. "_Whatever_, we're going in for the kill!"

He sprinted, jerking Hiei and my body backwards as he jolted forward towards the plant people. I steadied myself as he ran, positioning myself forward to help the amount of weight he was carrying. My hands latched on Hiei's shoes tighter as he began to slip off slightly, but Hiei kept his balance well as Kuwabara continued to charge forward.

Yusuke's footsteps could be heard behind us, and he was quick catching up to Kuwabara.

"I'm not responsible for the consequences of this unpracticed jump, Urameshi!" Kuwabara yelled.

This was clearly a new sign of trust I didn't even think I'd bother with, and I was surprised Hiei and Kuwabara even decided to agree to it. But because of the circumstances, I wasn't surprised. They both had incentive in doing this.

If the mission failed, Hiei wouldn't be pardoned, and Kuwabara would lose a dear friend.

"Going up!" Yusuke ignored his comment, and I soon felt the weight of Yusuke's body on my back.

The sole of his shoe pushed me off Kuwabara, and I released my hold on Hiei as we fell off in sync, landing in the midst of the horde. Briefly, I turned to view Yusuke's position, and he had barely made it, latching to the ledge with his fingers. The tip of his shoes pushed against the stone wall for leverage as he used his upper-body strength to pull him up.

I remembered he wasn't a brilliant strategist, and he was always just... lucky. Always.

As he hoisted himself up, he bellowed out to us before disappearing into the darkness of the stairwell, "Kuwabara! Hiei! Kurama! Thanks! If I survive, I'll give you all a treat!"

"Just don't die!" Kuwabara grinned, pleased that the plan had worked.

Hiei and I nodded in response, ignoring his last sentence, before returning to view the mass of plant people. They droned towards us, arms outstretched like a cliche zombie movie.

It was time to hold them off and rid ourselves of this problem as Yusuke took care of Suzaku. Readying myself with my rose whip, I realized I had more than pardoning riding for me with the completion of this mission. Obviously I would have had to go with the plan anyways, as three people happened to be the perfect height.

Not only was Keiko in danger, as she was the main incentive now for Yusuke, but the entire town—meaning my mother was prey for the insects, their victims, and in turn their harm. And there was more. Maybe it was some strange form of what she'd considered "friendship" that had formed over the past months, but I began to hope for not only my mother's safety, but Hojo's as well.


End file.
